Love or Something like It
by Fool of Fate
Summary: Four beasts come together to begin a journey of revenge. Unfortunately, trouble brews within their group, trouble due to love. A rather angsty story about love, war and suffering.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Redwall and the places surrounding it belong to Brian Jacques, the character and a few of the towns, however, are mine.

A/N: I wrote the earlier chapters in this story quite some time ago, 2005 I believe, so you might notice the writing style change. I'm rating it T for now for language, character death, graphic violence and self-injury, if anyone thinks I should rate it higher please notify me in a review and I will do so. I think T should be fine though. Now, without further ado, I give you Love or Something like It.

**Chapter 1**

A freezing wind blew through the Northlands. It stirred the snow that was blanketing the earth, causing it to fly into the air as a flurry of blinding whiteness. The long dead trees rattled in the bone-chilling wind creating a sound like that of a dieing creature's last breath. The sun's feeble attempts to shine had been smothered by the gray mass moving slowly, ominously across the icy sky. It was a penetrating, life-sucking cold.

In the midst of the numbing haze loomed a village, the Northland village of Yone. Formerly a peaceful town of mice, it was now in gory ruins. Bloody, mangled corpses littered the ground, staring, but not seeing, with their frozen, gazing eyes. Here and there a building blazed, a blackened timber fell, but the cold quickly put out most of the razed structures. Shops lay in shambles, their merchandise stolen, or thrown carelessly on bloodstained earth. Houses, no more than small huts, were in ruins: windows smashed, doors forced in, canvas and straw roofs punctured by large gaping holes that, like the mouths of demons, swallowed up the now nonexistent warmth that once came from the hovels.

The town center seemed to be the only place in this village of despair that wasn't harmed. In the cobble stone circle, a large brass bell hung between two sturdy, iron poles. It was a humble instrument, bearing only a small message that read, "I knell for the creatures of Yone. May war and wickedness never touch this land." The bell swayed slightly in the breeze, but did not sound, as if waiting for its ringer, who was destined never to gaily pull at the bell-rope again.

The bronze bell stood like a sentry over a magnificent sword resting on a stand. It was unlike any weapon ever seen before in the land. The blade was long and thin, with a blood channel no wider than a blade of grass. The sides were sharpened to edges so keen that, with the proper wielder, they could easily slice through fur, skin, muscle, and even bone. The cross-hilt was expertly made. Both sides elegantly curved down and weaved together in a basket-like shape around the main hilt to protect the fighter's paw from opposing blows. The pommel stone was awesome to behold. Carved into a deadly point at the bottom, it was a sapphire, held in place with an alloy of gold and steel coming from beneath the leather wrapped tightly around the hilt. It was a true warrior's weapon, but to the inhabitants of Yone it was not but a spiritual object used only as an idol to ask for guidance or to give thanks. But, the villagers of Yone also spoke of a legend. A legend that said that only one true of heart and pure of soul could wield it.

Suddenly, from near one of the houses, there came a scream that shattered the frozen air like a stone smashing glass. It was the sound of pain, intense pain coming directly from the very life-giving pit of a creature's soul. One might have thought somebeasts heart had been slashed into one thousand shrieking pieces, and one would not have been far from the truth.

The terrible sound come from a mouse, called Keemin Tae, lying, bleeding on the cold ground. He was scarcely fifteen or sixteen seasons old, too young for the horrors that had brought him to this moment. He had brilliant blue eyes, as bright and clear as a spring lake, but as powerful as a gale. Just below these wonderful eyes, supported by his left cheek, was a bloody gash. The fur and flesh was maimed and stained crimson around it.

The rest of his body was just as wounded. His homely green tunic was blood-soaked, and lay in tatters over his beaten body. Cuts, bruises, and other gruesome wounds covered him from head to tale. He was indeed a sorry sight to behold.

Another scream tore from the lips of the young mouse, "Jus' kill me now, damn ye! Ye've already killt the rest of my village!" he glanced over at his father, Likeam, who lay dead a few feet away. What was left of his life-blood was pouring out of an opening in his mutilated throat, slowly forming a gruesome red puddle around him. Likeam was another victim of the creature Keem was venting his rage upon.

The creature, an albino stoat, responded in a voice much colder than the frozen air, "Oh, no, no, no. A quick death would not do at all for the likes of you." He glanced down at his once pure white paw, now torn and bloody. It was tainted by an ugly cut that went all the way to the bone, the work of Keem. He grimaced as a fresh wave of pain shot through his nerves.

"No, that would not do at all for a brat like you," he repeated. "You will die a long, slow death at the mercy of the elements." He waved his uninjured paw carelessly at the dark, forbidding sky, and turned to walk away.

Suddenly, Keem let out a terrible, humorless laugh that sent a chill up the stoat's spine, causing the snow-white fur on the back of his neck to stand up strait. "Hahaha, Ye forsaken fool!" he spat, "I vow on my life that I shall slay ye, Radin! Aye, and the rest of yer crewl, honor less band!"

Radin shuttered, but never the less answered, "Ha! You slay me? If that is what you think, then you are more foolish than I! 'Twas was by luck that you damaged my paw, nothing more."

At that moment a weasel ran up to Radin and stammered out a report, "Master, me n' the Band 'ave took everythin' o' value."

"Very good, Fordle." Radin replied, "You are sure the village is completely looted?"

Here the weasel's eyes shifted to the side as he uncomfortably stammered out his reply," Y-yes Sire, W-we t-took everythin'."

"You are lying to me Fordle."

"N-n-no Sire, I'm n-"

"I do not like it when creatures lie to me."

The terrified weasel struggled to respond, but fear had grasped him too tightly, and he fell to the ground sobbing, in a pitiful heap.

Radin kicked the weasel in a disgusted manor an in a harsh tone of voice commanded, "Get up! I am not going to hurt you, yet. Now, what did you fail to retrieve?"

"I-it was a s-s-sword, Master. We t-tried, honest we did, but none of us could get it. P-please don' 'urt me Master!" He whimpered, shaking visibly.

Radin paid no attention to the cowering figure as he muttered reflectively to himself, "Hmm, a sword, eh? Mouse, do you know anything of this sword?"

"Aye, I do know of it. Only the pure o' soul an' true o' heart can wield it. It would ne'er respond to scum like you!"

"Silence, Mouse! Do you expect me to believe that rubbish? True of heart and pure of soul indeed! I'll bet it is a worthless object, nothing of value!"

"Nay, that's where ye're wrong, fer that is thee very weapon I'm gonna slay ye with, scum!"

"Enough! I am through talking. Goodbye pathetic mouse…forever! Come Fordle!"

Fury blazed in Keem's eyes as he tried to respond, but his breathing had become labored and all he managed to utter was a few painful groans as his mortal enemy walked away, fading into the snow-swept distance. And that was the last thing he saw before his mind faded into the merciful realms of unconsciousness.

It began to snow, lightly at first, but with increasing intensity. It blanketed the demolished village, as though trying to hide the destruction, but nothing could dim the presence of cruelty Radin and his band had bestowed upon Yone.

Radin's Band stood on the windswept plains outside Yone, huddling against the icy breeze. The numbered one thousand seventy-four in all, each one was a murderous fiend who would kill their own family for a bite to eat. Radin forcefully pushed through them until he stood at the head of his army, then turned to address them with the ritual victory call-and-response. " Who are you?" he roared.

"The Band of Radin!" A multitude of voices thundered the response.

"Why are you feared?"

"Because we were born with knives in our paws and murder in our eyes!"

"Whom do you serve?"

"Radin!" They screamed, "Radin, Leader of the Band, Player of the Song of Death!"

Radin waved a paw over the assembled vermin, hushing them into a deathly silence, then spoke in barely a whisper, yet every ear clung to his cold words. "Good, my Band. Good. No south to Baeown to play The Song for them."

At this announcement raucous, bloodthirsty cheers rent the air, screaming in cruel delight, "Radin, Radin, Player of the Song, Leader of the Band."

Then, in a great mass they started south to the Borderland town of Baeown, trampling the newly fallen snow in their rush to cause more destruction. And in front of them ran Radin, Leader of the Band of Murder, Player of the Song of Death.

Keem painfully struggled back into the world of reality several hours later. He attempted to rise, but with a gasp of pain, collapsed back into the half-melted snow. Then, like a thunderbolt, a flood of the last night's events rushed into his brain in an unorthodox jumble: He and his father, Likeam eating dinner, the town bell ringing out a desperate warning, Likeam grabbing his rusting dirk and charging outside, a scream, Likeam lying dead, intense fury, and finally, pain. Horrible pain. The pain currently blazing, like white-hot knives, throughout his battered body. So much pain. Too much pain… His thoughts trailed off as his vision blurred and darkened into the shadowy kingdom of death. Suddenly, a new thought seared through his dieing mind, as bright and bold as the morning sun, _No! I will not die! I will not give up! I shall avenge my father and my village!_

And as he was awakened by this thought he raised his head a fraction of an inch and was confronted by a miraculous image. A mouse was standing in front of him, but it was no ordinary mouse, beams of light radiated from his body, blinding to the eye, but to wonderful not to gaze in sheer awe at. The mouse himself was suited in armor, so silver and pure, it blazed like metallic fire. He held a sword so bright and awesome that it seemed to dim the armor. His very being promoted a feeling of safety that was increased when one looked at the calm expression on his bold face.

He spoke then to Keem in a voice that sounded like bells, ringing triumphantly on a Midsummer Day, "Keemin Tae, do you know who I am?"

Keem gasped, for when the mouse had spoken his lips had not moved a fraction. Nevertheless he responded, "No, Sir."

"I am a friend. That is all you need to know for now."

Keem could only nod in reply.

The mouse continued, "Keem, when you awaken go to the sword, and speak the word 'Lædanwerreour'. Only you can retrieve the sword from its resting place, but this word will assure the spirits that it was I who sent you. Go now and retrieve the blade!"

He nodded and said, "I'll git the sword righta way."

The mouse smiled at his highland accent and spoke one word, "Good."

The mouse extended his paw and Keemin grasped it. The next second, Keem found himself on his paws, blinking in the mourning sunlight. There was no sign of the mouse.

Keem ran swiftly to the town center, marveling at the fact that his wounds no longer ached. In fact they had healed almost fully. Only long jagged scars remained, glistening dully in the mourning sun. Only one wound had not changed, a cut in the shape of an X on his cheek. This was in the first place Radin had opened his flesh. He touched the cut gingerly, and with anguish, remembered how he had received it. When he had seen his father fall he had rushed at Radin with not but his Sgian Dhu. Radin had parried quickly, but was not fast enough and had received a deep wound on his paw. He had delivered a counter-blow to Keemin's face, the wound currently oozing blood. From then on it had been a one-sided battle, with Keem fighting desperately to protect himself and Radin inflicting minor injuries upon him with skillful ease.

Keem snapped out of his reverie and skidded to a halt. In front of him was the bell, swaying in the soft breeze, the sun shining brightly on its noble message. The bell's beauty was lost on Keem, for his attention was fully focused on one thing, the sword. Like a creature in a dream, he slowly walked toward it, oblivious to everything around him, his mind consumed completely by the marvelous weapon, which now seemed to have a faint glow to it. As he approached the implement of destruction, the light around it intensified and grew brighter until it shown like white fire. Slowly, Keem stretched out his paw and grasped the hilt of the sword. A feeling one hundred times stronger than any he had ever known rushed through his veins, cleansing him of evil, purifying his heart. Keem gasped as the energy rushed into his very soul, entering it, and then combining itself with his being. He and the sword were one! Then, in a voice as strong as a gale he spoke the word the spectral mouse had taught him, "Lædanwerreour!"

More A/N: Well, what did you think? Review and tell me, please. I'll try to post a new chapter every two days or so.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Redwall.

A/N: Well here's chapter 2. It's another one of those chapters I wrote back in good old '05. Thanks to the one person who reviewed! I don't really have much to say here…

**Chapter 2**

Snow swirled around the dark form that was fruitlessly trying to shield itself against the icy wind. Wrapped in a thin, ragged cloak, it didn't seem that breath would live within the creature much longer, but still it plowed on. The rust-colored bushy tail that protruded from under its garment showed that the animal was a squirrel and, by its build, a female. Dark eyes shown dully from deep within the cloak's hood. They were dull, yes, but on further examination the light of determination burned in those black orbs.

Suddenly, another creature could be seen tearing across the barren landscape toward the squirrel. It stopped several paces away and drew a long, notched scimitar, yellow eyes radiating cruelty from out of the pointed face of a rat. The creature had seen better days indicated by the fact its ribs were exposed through long slashes in the green tunic that it wore.

The rodent spat and watched as the saliva froze on the snow-blanketed ground then sneered, "All righ' squirrelly, jus' give me everythin' you got an' I'll let you live!"

The squirrel calmly lowered her hood and stared the rat in the eye until he was forced to look away. The creature was too young to have such cold eyes; only fifteen or sixteen seasons at best. When she spoke it was in a hoarse yet commanding tone, "No."

The rat, clearly shocked by the hard response, snarled, "Jus' who you think you are, sayin' no to me in tha' manner?"

"I do not give my name out freely, especially to vermin." It was not spoken in a threatening tone but the rat took a step back as though hit.

"Vermin, eh? I ain't vermin, I be a creature of the great warlord Radin. Now Yer gonna see the color o' yer insides!" he snarled and took a step forward to attack.

"I would not attack if I were thou." She said drawing a rapier in the space of half a heart beat, "For I have already won the battle."

The rat stopped and scratched his head with a grimy nail in puzzlement stating in a confused tone, "Wha'? You haven't w-"

At that moment he screamed as the rapier was plunged trough his stomach. Blood ran down his tunic in a fine stream, trickling to the frozen earth where it melted a hole in the snow and pooled on the frosted ground beneath.

"Yes I have, and thou shall never deny this again, for this is the will of Kinliv."

She walked several paces away before stopping and turning to face the east where the golden sun was already staining the sky with the blood-red light of dawn, then said softly, almost chanting, "I hath taken the life of another, I shall pay for this life with the blood that gives me life." Then Kinliv drew back the sleeve that sheltered her left arm. The thing was a mass of white, shiny scars, but when one looked closer, it appeared that all the scars were the same length and all were perfectly strait, none had the jagged look of a battle scar. The reason for this became apparent when the squirrel drew a knife and slit her own shoulder, five drops of blood fell from this wound where the sizzled in the snow. She did not even flinch as the wound was inflicted; she simply stared into the rising sun.

Once the deed was complete, Kinliv turned back to the rat and spoke, almost warmly, to the slain rodent, "The sacrifice hath been made. Thy soul shall now join the realms of death with the others I have killed." And with that statement, she lowered her sleeve and strode of into the icy wind and bitter snow.

Kinliv had not been traveling half the day when dark shapes appeared in the distance. She immediately recognized the silhouetted structures as the village of Yone. Though she had never visited the town, she had heard about it from travelers and hoped that it would provide a shelter from the icy surroundings, at least for the night.

As she approached the settlement she began to realize that something was not right. The area around the village was far too quiet and empty and as she drew closer it became apparent that the was no activity inside Yone either. Long ago had feelings such as fear been driven out of this creature and she proudly continued walking toward the suspicious civilization. Soon she was taking her first few steps into the deserted place and it became clear that the reason for the inactivity was due to the fact that all the inhabitants were dead. She stared at the carnage, unblinking. She had seen worse, far worse, in her day.

As she walked through the village of death with a cool sense of ease she began to hear an odd sort of noise. At first it she simply dismissed it as the wind, but as she drew closer to the center of the town she began to distinguish words that were forming the sound. She turned a corner and found herself witnessing a very odd sight in deed: a young mouse was kneeling in the snow, face pointed toward the sky, with his paws resting on the pommel of a sword. He appeared to be saying an oath for when she approached he finished with the words 'By this sword I swear'. He stood and turned, jumping back, startled, when he saw her. Nevertheless, he pulled himself together and asked, "Who are ye, friend or foe?"

She spoke in the same monotone used when addressing the rat, "I am a foe only if thou wish to do my harm."

The mouse then saluted with the sword and presented the pommel to Kinliv as a sign of respect and to show that no harm was intended then spoke formally, "I am called Keemin Tae, son of Likeam, I am a friend and do not wish to hurt ye in any way."

Impressed by his actions, the young squirrel responded, "I am known as Kinliv. I am a warrior and a wanderer. Thou art wise in not crossing me." She too drew her blade and pointed the pommel at him. They touched each others pommel then sheathed the weapons.

There was a moment of awkward silence as the two creatures stared at one another, then Keem broke the ice, "So, what has brought ye to this neck o' the Northlands?" he asked in a friendly manner.

"I wander to wherever the desire takes me." Kinliv answered levelly.

"Ah, I see. Then maybe ye would like to wander with me for a wee bit of time. I have taken an oath to slay Radin, a crueler creature never walked on this good earth, and I would greatly enjoy the company ye have to offer."

The young squirrel thought for a moment, then shivered and pulled her cloak closer around herself as a new gust of wind blew across the icy landscape. "Aye, I shall travel with thee."

"Glad to hear o' it!" the mouse offered cheerfully and Kinliv merely nodded. "We better be off, don't ye think? Not getting anything o' value done by standin' 'round here chattin'." And with that brief statement the two creatures headed off across the barren tundra, both too young to have such tragedies taint their path, yet both with new hopes blossoming in their hearts.

More A/N: Sorry, that was kind of short. They'll get longer. Reviews make me happy…


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Yep, I own Redwall ::wakes up:: Drat…

A/N: The genre of this story is romance, in this chapter you may be able to see why. Thanks again to the one person who reviewed!

**Chapter 3**

"Git up! Rowan, git up ye lazy squirrel" Zjon's voice cracked like a whip into the slumbering mind of Rowan Battleflight.

"All right, all right. I'm up all ready." Rowan responded groggily as the world around him came into focus. A fire's dieing embers glowed in the half-darkness, illuminating the one-room cottage. The light flickered across a cot, not unlike the one Rowan was currently occupying, and then danced over the sturdy oaken table that was located in the center of the room. Two chairs, made of pine, were decorated the edge of the table. Seated in one of these was a strong old hedgehog, Rowan's foster father, Zjon. The light glinted off the few pots and pans hung from the wall, simple things made of scrap-metal. As Rowan scrambled out of his bed and began to dress he glanced over at the sturdy wooden door where a haversack hung from a peg, it had the neglected look of something that had not been used for a long time. Under the pack, a walking stick leaned against the stone wall. It was a sturdy object, made of mahogany and polished to a dull gleam. A bow was slung diagonally across the wooden door, a powerfully built weapon, the maker had had one purpose in mind for it: to kill. Zjon never used it; he kept it only in case of an attack, an event that had not troubled the Borderlands in many years.

"Breakfast is ready." Zjon announced, throwing Rowan a hard oat scone. It hit him in the side of the head and fell to the floor with a hollow _thunk_. Rowan bent down and retrieved the morsel, dusting it off as he walked to the table.

"Plenty off work t' do t'day." Zjon commented.

"Huh, when isn't there?" Rowan responded through a mouth full of bread.

Zjon continued as though there had not been an interruption, "Got t' plow the field. We might git through 'alf ifin we're lucky."

"Righ'," replied Rowan, stifling a yawn, "Let's get started then."

The two of them proceeded to the tool shed chatting amiably. Zjon opened the door of a small rickety shed and beckoned Rowan inside.

"Well 'ere's mine," said the hedgehog taking down a large hoe from two wooden pegs, "an' 'ere's yours." He continued, passing Rowan a slightly smaller hoe. "The field won' plow isself, less get to work."

Rowan sighed and set out into the half-lit dawn, hoe held in his powerful paws. It was not that he did not like his life here, he always had enough to eat and Zjon was kind to him, but it seemed that his life was lacking something. If asked he couldn't name what was creating such a void in his existence, but something told him that his life was not meant to be simply filled with mundane farm work. The dark soil sunk slightly underneath his paw steps as he made his way across the field. He positioned himself at one end of the field and began to drag his hoe through the soil. The sun rose, shining its bright rays down upon the toiling creatures. Rowan lifted his paw and wiped away the sweat that was beading on his brow, that's when he heard it; a deep and distant rumble that seemed to be approaching quickly. "Zjon, do you hear thunder?" he questioned absently.

"Thunder? Rowan, there ain't a cloud in the sky, how can you be a'hearin' thunder? Sometimes I fear that sun be a-cookin' yer brains."

But it soon became apparent that there was a noise coming toward them. Not wanting for Zjon to think any less of him, he ignored the sound and continued working. At noon Zjon went back into the cabin for a break and Rowan wandered into the surrounding forest to find something edible. He sat down under an apple tree that he had often enjoyed the shade of and began to munch on the sweet fruit that it bore, watching as the rose-tinted leaves descended lazily from the boughs.

He didn't remember his eyes slipping shut or his mind traveling to the land of slumber, but what seemed like a couple moments later he found himself blinking into awareness. All was dark around him and the glowing moon shown like a silver sliver in the velvet sky. He shivered in the cold night air and stood. The first thought that entered his head was one of Zjon and how livid the old hedgehog would be at Rowan's absence from the work that had to be done. Then, as he thought about it for a bit, he realized that if his foster father knew that he was missing he wouldn't just wait around for Rowan to show up. He would have taken some form of action. As these thoughts ran rampant through the young squirrel's mind his nerves began to tighten and terrible visions of what could have happened to his guardian washed over him. He bolted through the forest, regardless of the twigs and sticks that scratched his running body.

Panting, he dashed into the field that housed the farm and gasped at the scene that lay before him. Where the house had stood was now only a smoldering pile of ash and scorched debris. The field where Rowan had been planting new crops just that morning was trampled by what looked to have a thousand footpaws. He sunk down on knees in a twisted mixture of sorrow and shock, tears running in rivers down his despairing face. Zjon! Where was Zjon? He threw himself into a headlong sprint toward the wreckage and frantically began to dig through the blackened objects. What he found sent a new wave of grief crashing through his already distressed form. It was the mutilated form of the strict, yet kindly hedgehog. Blood was caked all over what had been his living, breathing body. Glazed, dead eyes stared up at the horrified squirrel in a gaze of permanent fear. The cause of his death was a horrific tear across his throat that was still oozing fluids. A shout full of all the emotions that were whirling around in his mind, his soul tore from his vocal chords and he stood and ran as far from that place as he could.

He took no heed of direction, he just simply ran, ran as far and his hard as he could before collapsing from exhaustion. As he lay on the ground, breathing hard and foaming at the mouth, he became aware of the bitter cold that surrounded him, engulfing him, becoming a part of him. His body began to shake like a leaf in a high wind and his teeth chattered uncontrollably, but he did not care. Nothing mattered anymore. Zjon was dead, his home destroyed, and his life utterly and completely meaningless. White flakes began to cloud his vision, stinging when they landed on him and he realized that it was snowing. "Yes!" he shouted bitterly at the slate gray sky, "Yes! Just kill me now and get it over with! Kill me!" He cackled insanely as the snow formed an icy cold, watery blanked, numbing his whole being as he drifted unconscious.

Two creatures had heard his morbid cries, carried by the wind, Kinliv the squirrel and Keemin Tae the mouse. With a quick glance at one another the two tore off across the snow covered wasteland toward the desperate shouts. The arrived at the scene and began to clear away the sheet of snow that covered the seemingly lifeless creature, pulling his frozen body from the white mass that enclosed him. Kinliv snatched some flint and tinder from her belt pouch and, clearing away a circle of snow, hit the black stone against her steel dagger and brought forth a flame. With the help of Keem she dragged the freezing squirrel over to the warmth and began to bring life back into his form.

A little while later the young squirrel eased his way back into the realm of the living. "What happened?" He asked, hazel-green eyes looking inquiringly at his saviors.

Kinliv opened her mouth to reply but, for the first time in her life, found herself unable. She seemed to be trapped in those eyes of his and all she could do was stare, mouth slightly agape. She snapped it close and blinked several time as Keem's voice penetrated her dazed state. "We heard your shouts o' despair and decided to see what be the trouble. My name is Keemin Tae, son of Likeam and this is my companion Kinliv. By what do you call ye self?"

"I'm known as Rowan Battleflight. I thank you for saving my life." He said with a small smile.

Rowan. The name fell upon the ears of Kinliv like the sound of one-thousand silver chimes, strong yet beautiful. Rowan Battleflight. Suddenly, more than anything in the world, Kinliv wanted to impress this creature, get him to notice her. It was the oddest feeling she had ever had in her life, but being a creature of instinct, she said the first thing that came to mind, "Rowan, if thou wish to stay the night, we shall provide food and shelter for thee."

He tuned those magnificent eyes on her and she felt her face grow hot as he smiled gratefully and replied, "That would be wonderful! I thank you both from the bottom of my heart for your hospitality."

Her heart leapt at the prospect of the young squirrel staying with them, followed instantly by confusion came next. Why was she experiencing such odd emotions just by talking to this creature? They were ungainly feelings, awkward, yet somehow pleasurable. She tried to make heads or tales of this sensation as she helped Keem make the soup for dinner. As Rowan was still too weak to move, he simply made conversation as they prepared the meal.

"I come from a farm, down south a ways. 'Twas a pretty place, nice ole' hedgehog took me in an' I lived there for as long as I can remember." The content look that had dominated his features while reminiscing was removed by his next statement, "'Twas only just a little while ago that a band of vermin came to our abode. They razed our farm and murdered Zjon, that was the hedgehog; he was like a father to me. I'll never forgive those vermin. Never! I vow that one day I'm gonna slay him!"

Keem strode over and placed a paw upon his shoulder, "I know how ye feel. I do believe 'twas the same army o' creatures that ruined my life as well. Their leader is a horrible creature who calls himself Radin. He's the leader of yonder band o' death. I too have sworn to kill him. "

Until now Kinliv had remained silent but now spoke in that unchanging tone of hers, "Nary a whisper has passed through mine ears that told of this creature, yet I shall still venture forth with thee to bring his downfall."

Rowan smiled, causing Kinliv's heart to accelerate to an alarming rate, joy simply radiating from her soul. He then said, "Yes, together we shall slay Radin! Yet, we are few and his vermin horde numbers more than the snowflakes that dot the earth, how are we to slay him when so horribly outnumbered?"

Keem spoke slowly as though recalling something from the deepest recesses of his memory, "I have heard of a place, an abbey that lies far to the south, in Mossflower territory. It is said that the creatures that dwell there be of a peaceful order, yet nary an evil beast has ever been able to take the place by force. Maybe we could seek assistance there."

"Mossflower!" Kinliv gasped, "That is countless leagues away. It will take us at least a season to reach there on paw. We have not the time nor provisions."

Rowan had the solution, "Well as to the provisions problem, the town of Baeown lays only a day's march from where I used to reside. We could stock up on resources there. And who says we have to travel by paw? The northern branch Guosim used to visit our farm regularly. We could locate them and simply travel by boat."

"Brilliant, Rowan!" Kinliv said, her beaming face illuminated by the dying firelight.

"Yes, that should work nicely." Keem nodded. "Well, if no beast objects, I think I'll be a-turning in. Kinliv if ye wish to take fist watch I'll be a-taking the morning one. Rowan you better sleep the entire night, recover your strength, it seems that tomorrow is going to be a rather eventful day."

The other two creatures nodded in agreement. Rowan fell asleep almost as soon as his eyes shut; having nearly escaped death that day had taken a toll on his body, leaving him close to exhaustion. Keem on the other hand tossed and turned, trying in vain to reach the realms of slumber. Eventually he forsook his attempts and rose to join Kinliv by the fire. He padded up to her softly and sat down next to her. She did not jump or startle, for she had been aware of all his movements, and instead simply turned her head to face him, then inclined it in a gesture of welcome. For a while neither creature spoke, both lost in their own thoughts. It was Keem who broke the silence.

"What be your opinion of yonder squirrel?" he said, gesturing with his head in the direction of the sleeping Rowan.

"I think he is a great and wonderful being." Stated Kinliv. At this Keem chuckled softly and in confusion Kinliv questioned, "Why art thou laughing? What have I said something to cause such mirth?"

"The way you be a talking, it sounds like you're falling in love with this creature." Keem replied with a grin.

The young squirrel gasped, blushing fiercely. Love? No, it could not be. Love was a weakness and the weak could not survive. "I do not love that squirrel," she said and, though she tried to keep her tone its usual neutral self, her voice shook slightly, "I have only just made his acquaintance."

"Methinks thou dost protest too much." Keem stated with a slight smile, "Ah well, I believe sleep is finally coming over me. Wake me up for my watch if it pleases ye. May ye sleep soundly and let not an evil thought enter your head as ye dream." And with that statement he strode back to his ground pallet and fell into a deep sleep. Kinliv, however, stayed up, pondering.

More A/N: Slightly longer chapter, eh? I hope you liked it. In my opinion the dialogue is rather awkward, it'll get better though. Please, please, please review, I really want feed back for this story. K, Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: It should be obvious by now that I don't own Redwall…

A/N: Wow, two reviews on the last chapter, thanks! This chapter should tell you all a bit more about Kinliv's past. Hope you like it!

**Chapter 4**

Kinliv had never been a light sleeper and this was proven as she abruptly came into consciousness at the first streaks of dawn inching from behind the mountains in the east. She sat up as strait as a rod, her entire body tensed as she became one with her environment. After about thirty seconds she decided that all was safe and well and got up, going about her usual morning tasks. Keem was also up and about as he had had the dawn watch and together they prepared breakfast.

"How did ye rest?" Keem asked with a grin, remembering last night's talk.

Wary that there might be a hidden meaning to her friend's casual question, Kinliv simply nodded and said, "I slept well, and how did thou pass the night?" After Keem gave a generic answer, Kinliv began to truly examine the previous night. It all came back to her in a rush of color and images and she threw her mind onto another topic. They had been just dreams, nothing real, nothing important, just dreams brought on by what Keem had said. Just dreams…

A crude breakfast of porridge was made, quickly eaten, then cleaned up. Rowan had made a spectacular recovery during the night and helped as much as anybeast to break camp. The sun was fully risen when they set out, beginning their march for revenge across the barren land of ice and snow.

Nobody talked much that morning as all were lost in their own thoughts. Keem focused on Radin, a topic his mind was rapidly becoming obsessed with. How on earth could he defeat such an army? Even with Rowan and Kinliv they only numbered three, sure they were going to seek help from those at Redwall, but he had heard of the creatures there, pacifists all of them. They could not and would not fight. This presented quite the dilemma, but he decided not to bring it up, choosing to simply go along with their original plans.

Rowan's mind was wandering, quickly traveling from thoughts of Radin, to his previous life and occasionally landing on the squirrel maid walking beside him. She was a nice creature, and by the familiar way she handled her rapier, she seemed to be a good warrior as well.

Kinliv's mind was a whirlwind of chaos all revolving around the handsome squirrel at her side. She could not be in love with him. All love brought was weakness and pain. But then, what…? No! They had been passing dreams, nothing else. All turned to less than dust as soon as she regained consciousness. No, she did not love him; she would never love another creature, romantically or otherwise. Just befriending them was dangerous enough.

They ate lunch while walking: an apple and chunk or bread a piece washed down by melted snow. Keem was still mulling over his problems, but Kinliv and Rowan had begun a conversation.

"So where do you come from?" he asked.

"Far in the northlands, in the lands of never melting ice and snow. It is beautiful there, always shrouded in whiteness. Sometimes at night you can stare at the deep velvet sky and see waves of color dancing in the air. It is marvelous to behold!" Rowan noticed that this was the first time he had herd fluctuation in the other squirrel's voice and he was swept away by how beautiful and bold it sounded. She continued on, "My parents were killed when I was still a young creature," he voice had dropped back to its usual tone, "That is when I took up wandering."

"I'm sorry." He said and he actually sounded it.

"Ah well, only the strong can survive in the northlands."

What little tone she had was grim and he opted to change the subject, "I noticed the rapier you carry, where did you get such a fine weapon?"

She halted suddenly, body stiff and eyes staring someplace beyond the realms of reality. She quickly regained her composure, though, and continued walking with a jolt. When she spoke again her speech was soft and halted, "I, I got it from, from a close friend, the only friend I had, before he died." She would have stopped there, for she had never told another creature this tale, but something about him compelled her to keep talking. She felt deep in her being that she could trust him, "I was still fairly young, having only lived for roughly twelve seasons. My parents were long since dead and I had met up with him a season or two after their deaths. He was older than me and took care of me in a sense, teaching me how to fight and survive in the brutal Northland. He also taught me proper respect for the creatures I killed," here her eyes shot down to where her tunic covered her arm, "Though he was a fox, he was one of the best creatures I had ever met. One day we were ambushed by bandits, I did not last long, being knocked unconscious within the first few seconds of the battle. When I came to he was lying on the ground, mortally wounded, with the mangled corpses of the slain vermin littering the ground around him. He was on the verge of death, only having enough life left to give me this rapier, his only possession. It had been passed through his family for as long as could be remembered, I was the closed thing he had to kin. He died protecting me. Since then I have put all my heart and soul into growing stronger." Rowan thought he could detect a slight tremor in her voice, but he must have imagined it for the next second it was as if it had never been. She changed the subject, "Ah, but I speak too much, tell me of thyself."

He could sense that she was done talking of such tragedies so he quickly launched into an explanation of his own home. He described how the seeds were sown in the spring and how the little green shoots, the first signs of life, poked up from the soft, brown earth. He spoke of their progress through the summer, how they had to be carefully watered each day. Then, in the autumn how they were harvested, wonderful plants, full of life and a type of joy even. In the winter, the fields were prepared again and the cycle began anew. He spoke with a certain eloquence that made Kinliv's heart experience warmth that she had not felt in so long, too long. It made her feel alive and nearly brought a tear to her eye.

They talked like this for hours, until the rosy sun sunk below the western horizon. They had long since passed the remains of Rowan's farm, though they had taken a different route in order to avoid it and not bring back painful memories that were still so fresh. By estimation, they figured that they would reach Baeown by noon the following day. The pitched camp quickly. Now that they had help from Rowan, the chores around camp took much less time. That night passed much like the last, only all three creatures had sentry duty. When Kinliv awoke she wanted to pound her own head into one thousand small pieces. Bloody dreams. They traveled quickly, eager to reach the town.

The travelers stood looking at the ruins of their plans, both Keem and Rowan with looks of shock on their faces. Kinliv, as usual, showed little emotion, but there was something about her air that seemed dejected. Yone and Baeown could be mirror images. Only destroyed rubble stood before the trio, their last hope for supplies to last through the winter. As though in a trance, the creatures started forward through the land of chaos.

As they walked, Kinliv fancied that she heard a noise, a kind of shuffle, behind them, as though some creature was following them. As she listened it became clear that there was some noise. Slowly, she turned her head. It was a casual movement, nothing to fast, but it served the purpose. She caught a glimpse of a blurry red-brown shape duck behind a building. Turning back to her companions, she quietly told them what she had seen.

"Ye are quite sure that it be only one beastie, correct?" asked Keem.

"That is all I saw, yes." She answered.

"If that be the case, lets stand our ground; I think that we can take him!"

They turned abruptly and spread out, forming a small semi-circle. Kinliv and Keem both had their swords drawn and Rowan's belt knife was at the ready. Out of nowhere, an arrow zipped toward them. With reflexes of lightning Kinliv's rapier shot through the air, cracking the projectile in two. Three heads whipped around to find the source of the attack and three sets of eyes landed on a young squirrel maid. She was wielding a bow made out of yew, another oaken shaft at the ready.

"I'll kill you, vermin scum!" she yelled.

"Halt, we're friends!" shouted Rowan desperately and she paused lowering her bow, "Do we look like vermin?" he shouted.

She looked at him skeptically, "How am I supposed to know? You could be working for them."

Keem put his paw on his sword's pommel and spoke, "I swear by all that is dear to me that we are not vermin. Or working for them." He added as an afterthought.

She looked at him as though he were stupid, "I can't trust that! Vermin never keep their words."

Kinliv was becoming fed up with all of this, "Look, how can I convince you that we are not vermin?"

The other squirrel though for a moment then requested, "Drop all your weapons and come here."

Rowan nodded, muttering, "Do as she says."

Kinliv did not want to part with her rapier, but put it on the ground never the less. They walked slowly over to the newcomer. Only when they were completely out of reach of their weapons, did she appear satisfied, "Alright, I believe you. Go retrieve your weapons." They did so and she followed.

Kinliv looked at her, studying every morsel of her being. She appeared to be the same age as herself, though a bit smaller. She was clad in a sky-blue tunic and there was a certain air about her, rather like confidence only more so, superiority seemed the best way to describe it. This odd manner made her seem…intimidating. They introduced themselves in turn and she smiled at each one. She looked the longest at Rowan and even gave a little nod as he said his name. To Kinliv's horror Rowan looked rather pleased at this and even smiled back. It was like a fire had been lit within her. She did not want Rowan near this squirrel!

Finally, the archer introduced herself, "I am known as Faraheos, or just Farah. I live, well lived in Baeown before it was destroyed. My father held a high-ranking position on the village council and my mother was a shopkeeper. They're dead now, along with the rest of my village."

Pity radiated from Rowan's eyes as he spoke in a soft tone, "I'm so sorry. What happened here?"

"It was the work of a creature named Radin. He swept through here like a gale, killing and burning all in his path. I believe he is heading for Mossflower country now."

"Radin destroyed my home and the village of this fine mouse as well. We have all sworn to kill him!" He said with intense determination and it Kinliv could not help but admire this creature.

"I will join you then." Farah said, and Kinliv noticed that she too was looking at Rowan with admiration.

"We'll be glad to have you." Said Rowan quite happily and Keem nodded in agreement. No one seemed to notice that Kinliv seemed slightly less than happy with the arrangement, but she said nothing, only looking on stoically as was her way.

More A/N: Beginning to see where this story's going? Review and tell me what you thought!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Redwall, Legend of Zelda however…

A/N: OK, I really was going to post this two days ago, but then I bought Twilight Princess…so I've been in Zelda land instead.

**Chapter 5**

So the four companions headed out of Baeown, beginning the next step of their perilous journey. They had obtained all useful supplies that the destroyed town had left and figured they could last until Mossflower.

As they trudged through the bitter snow it became obvious that Farah and Rowan were falling for each other, though neither beast was prepared to admit it. They never left never left each others side and were often seen together, talking and laughing. On occasion Kinliv attempted to join in on these conversations but, although they did not openly exclude her, she tended to feel awkward and left out, not at all like few times she managed to have a conversation with Rowan alone. These, though few and far between, were wonderful moments for he was interesting to talk to and did not make her feel uncomfortable in the least. Even a one-on-one conversation with Farah could be nice, when they could ignore the slight stiffness between them. Her life in Baeown had been fascinating and her concepts and ideas of the world around them amazed Kinliv.

Unfortunately, conversations with either of them were becoming less frequent or even possible, and so, Kinliv spent her time conversing with Keem. Discussions with him could be somewhat dull as he was rapidly becoming obsessed with Radin and often spoke of fighting strategies and battle tactics. Normally this wouldn't have bothered Kinliv as war was a topic that intrigued her, but recently, to her horror, she had found herself wanting to talk about areas that formerly disgusted her such as emotions or, even worse, Rowan.

Then, one very odd night about a week after they had left the ruins of Baeown, Farah approached her. She had been sitting atop a snow-swept hill thinking about Rowan as was now her custom when on sentry duty nowadays. Engulfed in her own thoughts, she didn't notice the other squirrel sneaking up on her until she felt a tap on her shoulder. She drew her rapier in one quick movement, holding it at the ready, then noticed who the creature was, "Oh, Farah, it is just thou."

Farah nodded and smiled in that damnable way that made Rowan all but swoon and replied, "Yes, it's me. Look, Kinliv, we need to talk."

"Talk then."

The squirrelmaid sighed and sat in the snow beside the scowling Kinliv, "I'll get to the point then," her companion nodded and she continued, "Do you like Rowan?"

Kinliv's eyes briefly widened in shock, but she quickly regained her composure, "Well, yes, after all, he is a friend of mine."

Farah rolled those hazel eyes of hers and said, "You know what I mean," when confused eyes stared back she clarified, "Do you like him as more than a friend?"

For better or worse the darkness covered her blush and she responded levelly, "No, no more than a friend," she then added hastily, "Why? Dost thou?"

"Yep!" the smaller squirrel replied happily, "And I'm going to tell him tomorrow. I just had to make sure; I didn't want to hurt you if you did. Well, now that that problem is out of the way, I guess I'll turn in. Night!"

Long after the muffled footsteps had faded, Kinliv leaned back into the snow, tears streaming down her face for the first time in her life. She knew he loved Farah. She knew Farah would be good for him. She knew they would be happy. She knew they deserved each other. And knowing this did not help in the least.

It was though the sky reflected her heart, thought Kinliv as they trudged through yet another freezing day. The clouds above were of the deepest grey, almost black, the wind swirling them into grotesque shapes and patterns. Farah hadn't told him yet, but one could tell it was coming; they were talking more intimately and there was an odd gleam in her eyes. Beside her Keem was rambling on about some war plan or another. She kept her face expressionless, though she now understood what it must be like to be a convict, waiting for the headman's axe to fall. Wanting the inevitable to be over with, yet wanting the moment to last forever. It was though a great pressure was building, strong enough to crush, yet brittle enough to snap. Then it hit.

As she watched, Farah's eyes grew determined and she took a deep breath. Though Kinliv could not hear her words, she could deduce what was happening. For a moment Rowan stared at her blankly, eyes wide, Kinliv held her breath, waiting, hoping, praying. Please. But then his face split into a huge grin and he exclaimed something and they embraced happily.

Suddenly, Kinliv couldn't take it anymore. Her paw plunged down to where her rapier swung loosely at her side and she clutched the blade as if it was her last lifeline. Her paw squeezed tighter and tighter on the cold steel and she reveled in the pain. Her skin parted and blood streamed down the blade. Her nerves were on fire, but she did not care, she loved it, it released her. Then, as soon as it began, it stopped. She opened her eyes, not realizing she had closed them, and came to her senses. Relief flooded through her, no one had noticed the small pool of blood behind her. Keem was still rambling and Farah and Rowan had broken apart, still looking at each other lovingly. It hurt.

The rest of the day passed in a flood of emotions for each creature. Planning for one, joy and love for two, and pain for the last. By nightfall they had reached the border of Mossflower woods, having entered the county around noon. Keem had finally got a grip of what was going on and congratulated the two young creatures. Kinliv did not speak, not trusting herself to say anything. That night they decided to sleep beneath a beech tree, leaving the task of finding the Guosim for the morrow. Farah and Keem had already fallen asleep, leaving Rowan and Kinliv alone by the fire.

"Quite the day, huh?" said Rowan in a content voice.

Kinliv merely nodded.

"What's wrong, you've been quite all day?"

"Nothing."

"That's good. I thought you might be mad because of, you know, me and Farah."

"Well, I guess you were wrong." Replied Kinliv stiffly, fighting back tears and stunned that she was so distraught that she had accidentally dropped her usual "thou". She left quickly, leaving behind a stunned and hurt squirrel.

Farah awoke sometime during the night. At once joy sprouted inside her, for who wouldn't want to love and be loved in return? She was going to roll over and return to her pleasant dreams, when she noticed something. It was that odd squirrel, Kinliv, odd yes, but she still liked her and, despite what she had said, still worried that her and Rowan's relationship was hurting the Northland squirrel. She watched as Kinliv made a fist, eyes shut in a grimace, her paw constricting even tighter. Suddenly, her paw sprang open and Farah gasped at the sight of blood dripping down it. Kinliv's cold grey eyes darted to the source of the noise, but by that time Farah was feigning sleep.

She watched through squinted eyes as Kinliv's blood dripped onto the ground, muffled by the carpet of frozen dead leaves. The bleeding creature's eyes shown with unshed tears, but she did not cry, instead she clenched the bleeding limb once again, a feeling of relief passing over her face as she pumped her own blood out. Farah looked on, horror, confusion and pity mingled together in her heart.

Quickly, she dried off her eyes, but ignored the crimson fluid matting her fur. She stood up abruptly and strode over to where the squirrel was faking slumber. Panic shot through Farah, had the other squirrel seen her watching? She then realized that it was simply time for her sentry duty. Kinliv shook her softly, and she stood, staring at the other squirrel long and hard. Then, without thinking, Farah put her arms around the depressed creature and drew her close. The other squirrel stiffened, but made no move to draw away. For one brief moment their eyes met, silver and gold, and in that second complete understanding passed through the two, and then Farah dropped her arms and the moment was lost. She walked over to where Kinliv had formerly been positioned and did not look back. She rarely ever did.

The others were awakened by Keem early the next morning. It seemed he had been scouting ahead and had come across the stream that would take them to the Guosim. So, still bleary-eyed, they broke camp and continued their march. For Kinliv, this day was not much better than the last. It seemed to have finally hit the two other squirrels that they were a couple and proceeded to hold paws during the journey. Kinliv averted her eyes and made a forced conversation with Keem.

"Do you think we will reach the Guosim today?" she asked, not really caring about the response.

"Hard to say really, they are almost always moving, ye see."

Kinliv nodded absently, trying to catch Rowan's eye. When she managed, she was shocked to see hurt and betrayal in his glare. Instantly, last nights conversation, if it could be called that, returned to her and she flinched as she remembered her rudeness. She vowed silently to speak with him later then turned back to her companion with a sudden question, "Hast thou ever been in love?"

"I don't believe so, why?"

Really, she thought, he could be so oblivious sometimes, "No reason really, it is just something I have been wondering about, what with Rowan and Farah and all." She waved a paw airily in their direction and it pained her to mention the subject so lightly.

"Ah, yes, cute aren't they?" He said distractedly and plunged into a lecture about fighting creatures that wield claymores. Kinliv sighed, how in the name of hellgates, did she get dragged into this?

Rowan had never been so happy in all his existence. He had worked on a farm his whole life and had never cared about anything except sewing, growing, harvesting, and plowing. He had never dreamed of falling in love, and yet here he was, chatting compassionately with this wonderful creature. Only one thing bothered him, Kinliv. They were usually great friends and he didn't understand why she had been so cold to him. A sudden thought came to him, a thought he hoped and prayed was not the case, but he quickly dismissed it and returned to his conversation.

"Have you ever met the Guosim?" Farah asked, her splendid hazel eyes shining.

"Yes, they visited us from time to time back on the farm."

"What are they like?" his comrade asked, her curiosity in other cultures shining through.

"Well, they're quite personable, though they do have a fondness for arguing, but not hard core arguing, just a friendly type of bickering. They live by the rivers, so they eat quite a bit of fish and I've heard they make excellent beer, though Zjon never let me have any."

Farah laughed that delightful laugh of hers, it was like the sunrise made into sound, "They certainly sound like fun."

"Oh yes they are." Rowan sighed, how in the name of heaven had he been this lucky?

Later that morning, Kinliv managed to pull Rowan away from Farah. She abruptly plunged into an apology, voice dull and eyes downcast as though her heart really wasn't into it, "I am sorry for the way I spoke to thou last night." She began, "I was tired and stressed. Canst thou forgive me?"

Rowan grinned, "Of course. It happens to the best of us." And with that he trotted back over to Farah leaving an even more hopeless Kinliv in his wake.

Around noon sounds of merriment could be heard from a little ways up the stream. "Looks like we've found the bonny creatures!" said Keem happily. They walked beside the thawing stream, and the noise grew louder and to Keem's excitement, a bit more raucous. Maybe these creatures would partake in the war.

As he walked he became lost in his thoughts. Ever since he had met these creatures his life had gotten rather strange, sure they were nice and all and he wouldn't trade them for anything, but he really wasn't the romantic type and abruptly he was surrounded by romance. Even Kinliv had asked about it, though he couldn't see why, after all he had been joking that one night. She seemed perfectly happy with the other's relationship. His mind drifted back to Radin as it usually did, it seemed to be permanently stuck there of late. He sighed, mind focused on the present, not wondering or hoping, only doing.

More A/N: Ah, hormones, fun stuff. I'll try to post the next chapter on time ::sweatdrop::. Thanks for the reviews!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Me not owning Redwall.

A/N: Yay, schools out! Ok, so this chapter leaves the realms of canon as far are the Guosim is concerned. It just gives some background info that I made up. I'm sorry if it bores you. The rest of the chapter is good though, in my opinion. Thanks once again for the reviews.

**Chapter 6**

The four creatures strolled into the encampment of the Guosim shrews around noontime. The spiky-furred little creatures were lounging about there camp, stirring soups, and arguing good naturedly. They abruptly came to attention at the sight of four strange beast wandering into their domain, but settled down again once they saw that the intruders only consisted of three squirrels and a mouse. An older, stately looking shrew approached them, his head-fur wrapped with a symbolic looking headband of black cloth woven in with strings of gold. He was clad in a long kilt, held up with a black belt of snakeskin. Thrust through the belt was a short, but vicious looking, saber.

Keem took a step forward and spoke in a rather official tone, "Do ye be the Log-a-Log of these good shrews?

"Well, I suppose you could call me that," the shrew responded in a gruff bass voice, "but, Log-a-Log is such a silly name, doncha think? I prefer the title: Chief, but you can call me Calimb, for that's my name, doncha know?"

Keem blinked a few times, this little fellow went against all he had ever learned about shrews, but he quickly regained his composure, "Erm, well, alright. How do ye do Calimb?"

He took a breath and looked about to introduce himself and the others, but the Chief interrupted, "How do I do? Well just jolly good, doncha know? And, I'd ask you the same question, but I'm not to knowledgeable on how to address you!"

"Well," began Keem, "I am known as Keemin Tae, son of Likeam, ye can call me Keem, though, and this here is Kinliv from the Northlands, the young squirrel to her right is Rowan Battleflight of the Borderlands, and the charming creature to _his_ right is Faraheos, late of Baeown."

"But you can call me Farah." she tacked on as a coda.

The jolly shrew beamed, "Splendid! Charmed to meatcha, doncha know? Well, this is my clan, Avaborit, in the Gwalchgwyn society in the Guosim shrews." He looked at their blank faces for a moment before something clicked, "Oh, I take it you don't know about shrew society," his brow furrowed, "Well this could take a fair bit of time to explain, doncha know?" his face suddenly lit up, "I know! Why don't you come have a bit of supper with my good self, I'll explain it all to you then." And without another word, he strode off.

The little party blinked several times and had no other choice but to follow. He led them to a quite place under a weeping willow on the outskirts of the camp. A small table had been erected and laid on it was some bread, fish, and some sort of dark alcoholic drink. The five of them sat down and at the invitation of their host began to fill their plates.

After they had finished eating the shrew leaned back and began to explain, "Well, lets see, the Guosim is the group in which all shrew societies in Mossflower are contained, doncha know?" when they nodded he continued, "There are about 16 societies in the Guosim right now I believe. My clan's society is the Gwalchgwyn as I've told you, and a jolly good society if I do say so myself! Means "white falcon", doncha know? Ah, but I'm getting ahead of myself. The Guosim is ruled by a council consisting of the leader of each society. The meet once every season to debate and create laws affecting the entire Guosim. Called the Head Council, doncha know? The society leaders get re-elected every three years, so we have a steady stream of splendid new ideas coming in constantly. Now every society is made up of four clans," he ticked them off on his fingers, "the Defense Clan, the Trading clan, the Farming Clan and the Mapping Clan. The Defense Clan, that's my clan, Avaborit, protects the society from vermin and such, the Trading Clan is in charge of meeting, forming alliances, and trading with other creatures and groups in Mossflower, the Farming Clan does just that, farm, and the Mapping Clan explores and maps. Now each society is lead by one main shrew, ours is a fine chap named Gawain, and under the society leader is the Council, made up of the clan leaders, like my jolly good self. Under me there is a small group of three shrews, called the Committee, doncha know? Oh yes, we're a democracy so all these positions are elected. The Head Council every 3 years, the society leader every 2 years, the clan leaders every 5 years, and the Committee every year and a season." He finished, "I think that's about it."

Surprisingly, the guests had clung on to every word. It was Keem who spoke first, "Ye say ye be the Defense Clan?"

"That's right!"

"Would, ye and yer clan the Avaborit be willing to help us on a quest?"

"And what quest would that be young master?" And so, Keem filled Calimb in on their mission to find the army of Radin and slaughter every last one of them. After he finished the clan chief spoke, "Aye, I've heard of the foul beast of which you speak. They say his beasts number over 1000. The fighting beasts in our clan only number to about 512, doncha know?"

Keem nodded, "Ye see, that's why we are going to the grand ole' Redwall Abbey for assistance."

"Well, it does seem to be a worthy cause. I'll take it up with the Committee tomorrow. Ah, here comes one of the members now! Fellows meet my son, Kenafon."

They all nodded and exchanged greetings with the son of Calimb, a tall lean shrew with a claymore across his back. He looked to be of about seventeen or eighteen seasons. The sky was dark by now and all beasts retired save Kinliv and Kenafon who had engaged in conversation.

"I've always wanted to see the Northlands!" he exclaimed when she mentioned her home country.

"Aye, 'tis a harsh place, but beautiful."

"So I've heard, tell me about your life, your journey."

"Curious little beastie, are thee not?"

"Yes, I've always been fascinated by others."

"Well then, I do not remember much about my parents, I have always fought for survival and I have slain more beasts than you have hairs on your braw little head. It was not until recently that my path did cross with the mouse Keem in his deserted town of Yone. Shortly after, we met Rowan, who was half-dead. He recovered and began to travel with us. At Baeown we had our hopes crushed like the city, but it was there that we met Farah. After a bit more traveling we arrived here."

She didn't mention anything about Farah and Rowan's relationship, deeming it neither important nor necessary, but there was a certain almost undetectable chill in the way she said "Farah" that struck Kenafon's curiosity and he asked, "Is there something wrong with Farah?"

"No," she responded quickly and stiffly, "why dost thou ask?"

"Don't hide it; you sounded cold when you spoke of her."

"Thou must be mistaken."

"Hold out your paw." The young shrew said suddenly.

"Why?"

"I can tell if a beast is lying."

Kinliv had spent all her life building up mental defenses, therefore was not afraid to put the strongholds to the test. She placed her paw face up on the table in front of them and he placed his paw across her wrist. He stared deep into her cold slate eyes and asked, "Do you dislike the one known as Faraheos or anything to do with said creature for any reason?"

"No." she responded firmly.

"You lie." It was not a question or even an accusation, it was simply a statement and Kinliv knew it to be true.

The squirrel dropped her eyes, "Yes."

"Thought so, would you care to tell me why?"

"No. I am not even sure myself and you are still a complete stranger."

"Ah, I see, well if it's trust you're worried about, I'll make a vow."

"What kind of vow?"

"An unbreakable one of the strongest caliber; a blood oath."

Her eyes grew hard and she hesitated a moment before nodding, "I agree."

"Very good! As my dear old father would say: No time like the present, doncha know? Well then, I Kenafon, son of Calimb, of the Avaborit Clan of Defense in the Gwalchgwyn Society of the Guosim shrews do vow on my life, my blood, my honor, and my soul to Kinliv of the North to never repeat a word to any other creature of what is said tonight between said Kinliv and myself." And with that oath he slit his palm and held it out to his companion. She too cut her paw and placed it across his. The blood mingled. The oath was sealed.

"Now then," he said in a business like tone, "What grievances do you possess against Farah?"

"None, as far as I can tell. She has not harmed my being or spoken ill against me or my beliefs in any way."

"Do you anger when you see her."

"Only sometimes."

"And when might these times be?" he inquired.

Kinliv muttered something inaudible in response.

"What was that?"

"When she is with Rowan. They are together. Romantically."

"Ah, now we're getting somewhere. Do you have feelings for Rowan, love him perhaps?"

"I do not know."

"How can you not know? I mean, you either like him or you don't."

"I have lived my life in isolation, only seeing another creature perhaps once every few seasons. I have always viewed love as a weakness and have never truly been loved. I have no knowledge of the concept."

"Well you could just have feelings for him, not truly love him. Do you just feel jittery when he's around and depressed or angry when Farah is with him."

In the way of a response, Kinliv thrust out her other paw, the one that she had cut the other day. "I did this to my paw when she told him."

Kenafon looked at the gash in astonishment, "You did that to yourself? How?"

"My rapier. I can never stop thinking of them, and the longer I dwell the worse it gets until I find myself clenching my paw, trying to re-open the wound."

"Do you blame Farah for this?"

The stormy-eyed creature thought for a moment, "No. She cares about him as I do and she is my friend. They are happy together, and I am happy for them. They deserve each other. It is a good thing. I just wish it wouldn't cause me such pain."

The shrew sighed, "Kinliv let me tell you a story. When I was younger I fell for a pretty shrew-maid, about my age. I practically worshiped the creature, she was my life. The trouble was she never noticed me; she was always with some other boy or another always flirting and never staying with the same creature for more than a season. Every time she broke up with a shrew my hopes would soar, only to be shattered within the week. After about the fourth time this happened, I grew so depressed that I brought a fever upon myself. It took three weeks for me to shake it off, during two of which even the doctors weren't sure if I would make it.

"When I recovered, I came to my senses and realized how foolish I'd been to have my happiness, and even my health, depend solely on the actions of on other creature. After this epiphany I enjoyed the rest of my youth. I learned to fight, I learned about other cultures and the government. I even experienced romance during all this, nothing too deep, but it was fun. The point is, when creatures are young they make mistakes. They fall for the wrong creature and suffer for it. Who knows, maybe Rowan'll get tired of Farah and move on and you'll have a shot. Maybe it'll be you who does the moving on. What I'm saying is don't put too much of your self into your emotions right now, and certainly stop inflicting injuries upon yourself. You are better than that."

Kinliv nodded, "Thou art wise beyond thy years."

Kenafon smiled, "Thank you, I hope to become clan chief one day, maybe even society chief."

"Thou shall be a great leader."

"I hope to be. Now, it's far past midnight and tomorrow I shall try to influence the Committee into following your cause. I would like to see how your life unfolds Kinliv of the North."

Leagues away from the two conversing creatures, sat Radin in his Warlord's tent. The Band lay camped around him on the hard earth, but he paid them no heed. His mind was focused on one thing and one thing alone: the fire in front of him. He had no need of a seer to predict the future for he possessed a rare talent known only to some, a talent that hadn't been used in over a century, he could fire scry. He could look into the flames and see anything he wished is the past, present, or future. Unlike the creatures of old, he could not do this whenever he wished; he could only fire scry under the most precise of circumstances. First, the moon had to be full, shining as bright and whole as it was tonight. Next, he had to complete a blood sacrifice by slaughtering a willing beast and throwing the scull into the scrying-flames. This too had been completed if the headless corpse of the weasel Fordle was anything to go by. Finally, the scryer must have sat under the influence of certain herbs thrown into the fire for three hours. Radin's bloodshot eyes determined this step to have been completed. Radin was fire scrying!

The images in the flames engulfed his mind. He saw the scarred squirrel with the silver eyes that had killed one of his hoardbeasts weeks before. He saw the squirrel of the farm he had destroyed and the squirrel who had escaped at Baeown. But, the image that scared him most was that of the young mouse he had killed at Yone alive and plotting, ever plotting his death. He quickly scried their location and found they were at the river a couple days march from his camp. He knew that if they traveled by boat that they would outrun him, but he also knew a shortcut to the ford they would have to cross.

The Band was awakened by the harsh shouts of their drugged master, "Wake up you worthless swine! Get off your lazy arses and move! We'll make the ford in three days time or I'll have your lazy hides! Move!"

No one dared challenge him or complain. They were all terrified out of their weak minds an obeyed him without question. They did not know why or how they were expected to reach the ford in a mere three days, but who were they to question the mad stoat. They would run without food, drink or rest for as long as necessary as they had done so many times before.

More A/N: Yep, very un-canon. That's all I have to say except for the usual pleas for reviews. Ta ta.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: If I owned Redwall it would probably be a lot more dramatic/romantic.

A/N: This chapter is a tad bit longer than the other ones have been. Just as a warning, there is a bit of graphic violence in this chapter.

**Chapter 7**

The Committee of the Avaborit clan woke early the next morning to discuss the clan's participation in the campaign. They met beneath an old oak tree and held a meeting in the traditional style, meaning, the one who held the blackstone could speak. Since Calimb was the chief he opened the conference by addressing the issue.

"The young mouse Keem has asked for the Avaborit's assistance in his crusade of sorts, doncha know? He's determined to hunt down the vile stoat Radin, aye, and the rest of his Band too. I'd like to hear all of your opinions on the jolly matter. Kenafon." He handed the blackstone to his son.

The young shrew eagerly voiced his opinion, "I believe we should help them. After all, it is our clan's duty to uphold the safety of our society and this Radin certainly poses a threat." He proceeded to pass the stone to an older shrew lady on his left.

She spoke in a crackly voice that reminded one of snapping twigs, "I think we should stay out of it, mind our own business. If we partake in this war it will bring nothing but trouble, I can feel it in me bones." Having said her share she handed the rock to the next shrew.

His voice quivered and he fidgeted with the stone as he spoke, "I don't r-really know what w-we should d-do. I'm fine either way!" He practically lobbed the stone back to Calimb.

The head-shrew chuckled deeply, "Oh-ho it appears it's up to my good self to decide! Well, I do believe I'll have to side with my son on this one, doncha know? We travel with them!" He smiled at his son, who grinned back.

The old female shrew grimaced and whispered, "Nothing good can come of this, mark my words."

Kinliv was on her hands and knees, grunting as she tried to force the last of the shrew's hardtack biscuits into a haversack for travel. She looked up as a shadow was cast upon her and her task and smiled slightly as she saw the face of Rowan above her. He bent down and began rearranging the foodstuff so all would fit properly. Kinliv leaned back on her heals, attempting to brake the silence between them.

"Is it not grand that the clan has decided to travel with us?"

""Well in one sense, yes, but there have been mutterings." At the confused look on the other squirrel's face, he continued, "You see, this morning in the Committee they took a sort of vote to decide whether they would join us or not. One beast who is regarded very highly in the clan strongly opposed aiding us in our cause. She is suspected to have seer blood in her veins and predicted a grim future if they were to join us. Calimb's son, on the other hand, was fervently for the clan to assist us. The third Committee member was indifferent, so it was up to Calimb to decide. As you may have guessed, he settled on coming with us. Many beasts believe he only chose that because of his son, others support the chief and his decision whole-heartedly. You can see where this causes a tremor in the tribe's foundation."

Kinliv nodded, "I was unaware of this strife. Is there anything we can do?"

Rowan shrugged, "I guess we can wait and see, hope it all settles itself out."

Kinliv's eyes began to glaze over as she became lost in thought, internal strife was never a good thing and even less so for an army on the brink of war. With a divided force, they had no hope of destroying Radin and all he stood for. The blast of a battle-horn broke her reverie and she and Rowan's heads tuned simultaneously to locate the source of the noise. The instrument was held by Kenafon and he was gesturing with his free paw to the boats. It was time to leave.

The squirrel shouldered the pack and walked side-by-side with her companion to the stream where they boarded a logboat already occupied by Keem, Farah, Calimb and Kenafon. The young shrew looked intently at Kinliv and she flashed her palm at him to show that, true to her word, she had not broken open the cut again. He smiled and nodded before assuming a position at the stern with his father to help deliver orders.

The trip that followed was not of a pleasant caliber for Kinliv. Rowan had his arm around Farah and the two spent the time staring intently into each others while talking in low whispers. Try as she might, she could not take her mind of the depressing display and looked over at the young mouse across from her, hoping he would strike up a conversation. But, the world was lost upon Keem as he stared at the river flowing by, and so, Kinliv had no choice but to join him.

She had to admit, there _was_ something soothing and tranquil about the flowing water passing beneath the keel, but it was not quite enough to distract her from her emotional agony. Every time she began to mentally drift off, scenes of her in Farah's place would enter her head, only to be crushed when the boat rounded a particularly violent bend or such. Every time Kinliv was brutally forced back into the real world, a sudden pain grasped her heart and her soul pined for the only thing she wanted, but could not have. She dug her nails into the flesh on her paw until it became slippery with blood, then pushed back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. Tears not only of misery, but of shame. She had failed at maintaining control.

At long last the shadows of dusk descended on the earth and the voyage stopped for the day. Though they disembarked, they decided not to set up camp, choosing only to unroll ground pads and dine on hardtack as they wanted to make a quick and early start the following dawn.

As night fell, Kenafon approached the distressed squirrel, "What's wrong."

"Same as before."

"Ah, yes. Things like that take time." When he only received a nod in response, he decided to change the subject, "In two days and a bit we'll reach the ford, and then it's only half a day of sailing until we reach Redwall."

"Hath thou ever seen the marvelous abbey of which they all speak?" Kinliv asked, genuine curiosity tinting her usually un-fluctuating voice.

"Aye, I have. Once when I was just a lad. It was a decent enough place with food to kill for. The creatures are nice enough, very hospitable, though in my opinion they can be rather strict or silly at times." As Kinliv listened the sleeve of the cloak she always wore slipped down to her elbow, revealing all the pearly scars that marred her arm. Kenafon gaped, "What in the name of hellgates?"

Kinliv's sharp intake of breath indicated that he had seen something he shouldn't and she quickly drew the sleeve back over her forearm, "It is nothing." She said firmly.

"Nothing! How in the name of all things did you get such scars? Are they all from your depressing over Rowan?"

"No, it is not that. Thou hath proven to be a good friend in the short time that I have known thee so I will tell thee of these wounds. Thou must swear once again to repeat none of this to anybeast."

The shrew agreed and swore the oath once again, a look of shock still spread across his features. Once the vow had been made (without blood this time) Kenafon asked once again, "How did you receive such cuts."

Kinliv sighed, "There is one for every creature I have killed." At this point she raised the cloth covering both arms, displaying the array of marks she supported. "It is a tradition in the North, for every beast that you kill, thou must sacrifice some of thy own blood to the Eastern sky to assure the dead one's passage to the other world. It is the least one can do after taking a life."

Questions buzzed inside the shrew's head, yet he managed to settle on one, "Why the Eastern sky?"

"The sun is reborn every morning in the east, representing new life. By sacrificing thy blood to the east, thou art praying that a new life will replace the one you took."

"Ah, that makes sense. You've killed that many creatures?"

"Yes."

"That's more than half the clan kills in a year!"

"I am not proud of it, but it was my life or theirs."

"Such is the way of survival." Both beasts quieted, in tune with each other.

Kinliv broke the silence, "It is late and we have much traveling on the morrow." And with that note she departed, leaving her companion behind to puzzle over the nature of the strange creature he had befriended.

The next two days passed like the first, with Kinliv attempting and failing at overcoming her depression. Finally, the day dawned that they would reach the ford and, hopefully, Redwall Abbey. The sailed on smooth waters in the early morning, liquid sunlight drizzled down upon them as a quiet wind passed over the boats. Kinliv leaned back and closed her eyes listening to the birdsong. Suddenly, her ears pricked up, something was out of place. It was more of a feeling than sight or sound, but it was definitely there. With a jolt, she realized the birdsong was gone as well. She looked to see if anyone else had noticed the sudden change in the atmosphere. It appeared no one had, Rowan and Farah were nonverbally…occupied (they were moving along quiet fast in their relationship having shared their first kiss the night before, a night that had been hell for Kinliv as she had spend it sleeplessly, laying on her ground pad, knees tucked up to chin, shaking and fighting back tears until dawn) as usual and Calimb and his son were putting there attention into steering the boat.

Kinliv nudges Keem and asked softly, "Dost thou notice anything?"

"Besides Rowan and Farah being a bit more, ah, _distracting_ than usual?" when Kinliv glared and rolled her eyes he hastened to become more serious. He sat still for a moment, tensing, and then he spoke, "Yes I see what you mean, there's a kind of felling, so to speak.

But before they could continue their conversation any further Kenafon yelled out in a booming voice, "We've reached the ford! All beasts disembark for portage!"

Farah and Rowan broke apart, thankfully, and the creatures came ashore. They all assisted in picking up the boats and hoisting them over their heads in order to cross the ford. They were about halfway across when the world exploded in chaos! Horrendous yells split the air as hundreds of vermin charged out brandishing weapons.

"Ambush! We're being ambushed!" shouted a nearby shrew.

"Obviously!" muttered Farah, but helped overturn a boat to form a barricade and began firing off arrows.

Kinliv and Keem drew their swords and Rowan his belt knife and the three of them charged into the thick of the fighting. Blood spattered across Keem's arm as he slashed open a leering rat's face, revealing the formerly white skull beneath. Beside him, Kinliv's rapier was a blur as she pierced the vital organs of countless enemies. Rowan was hacking about madly with his knife. It was clear he wasn't a fighter, but he managed to cause damage by crashing the blade into his opponents' limbs. Far too soon it became apparent that they could not keep this up much longer. Keem saw numerous shrews fall screaming to the hordes of rodents around them. Grimacing, he fought his way over to Kenafon who was delivering mass damage with his claymore.

Keem sidled up next him and yelled, "We won't last much longer! We're far too outnumbered! We need to retreat!"

The young shrew nodded and beheaded a ferret, grimacing as the blood spewing from the jugular vein spattered across his face, "I know! Look, there's a cove down stream about a quarter of a mile! It's hidden, look, spread the word around and we'll meet back there!"

Keem nodded and hurried back to where Kinliv, Rowan, Farah and Calimb were crouching behind a barricade. He quickly told them of the plan and the shrew chieftain nodded, "I know of that place. Follow me."

They fought there way to the edge of the water, informing as many shrews as possible of the escape plan. "Can you all swim?" Calimb shouted over the noise.

When they all nodded he jumped in. The companions followed, seeing countless other shrews do the same all around them. Kinliv hit the water with a splash and immediately struck out. An arrow grazed her side and she dove under in the hope to avoid anymore of the missiles. She opened her eyes to a world of bubbles and blood, and began searching for a creature to follow. She saw Keem in front of her and swam after him. A second later she came up for air. Glancing back over her shoulder, she noted that most of the shrews had made it in. She noticed with satisfaction that their attackers seemed to be terrified of the water and were reluctant to follow. Maybe they would get away after all. She dove back under and struck out once more.

Before long she noticed that the creatures around her were turning to the left, disappearing in an underwater tunnel. She followed and after swimming a couple feet, found herself emerging into dimly-lit cave. She stood still, willing her eyes to adjust to the darkness around her. A soon as she could see again, she wandered around, looking for anyone she knew. She quickly located Kenafon and approached him.

"Which way is east?" she asked.

He jumped at the sound of the voice and turned, grinning when he realized it was Kinliv, and then grimacing as her question sunk in, "Kinliv…" he cast about frantically for away to avoid answering, knowing what his answer would bring. He pointed to her side that was oozing crimson, "Doesn't that count as a blood sacrifice?" When she shook her head, he sighed, giving in. "That way." He pointed and she nodded.

"I hath taken the lives of others, I shall pay for these lives with the blood that gives me life." She drew her knife and delivered thirteen new cuts. Kenafon was somewhat relieved to see that these new wounds were shorter than and not as deep as the others. "The sacrifice hath been made. Thy souls shall now join the realms of death with the others I have killed."

When she had completed the ritual he approached her, "Father's probably going to hold a meeting, and we should attend." She followed and they walked into a small circle lit by creatures holding torches.

"Avaborit lost one hundred and three creatures in this battle." He said grimly and many beasts gasped at the expansiveness of this number.

The old Committee seer stood up, her voice shaking with fury, "I told you nothing good would come of this!" she snarled, "We haven't lost this many creatures since the Battle of the March over twenty seasons ago!" many shrews nodded and grumbled in agreement with this statement.

Calimb spoke over them, "Never the less, we will continue on our quest. We will stay here for the night and travel to Redwall tomorrow." Some of the protesting beasts toned down a bit at the prospect of a rest. So the meeting broke up and the creatures dispersed into their own groups.

Kinliv walked over to where Calimb, Kenafon and her three companions were situated. They had all suffered a few cuts and bruises as to be expected from a battle, but nothing too serious. They settled down and waited, all their supplies were gone as they had abandoned them with the boats in their mad dash, leaving them only with their weapons. And so, sodden, hungry, and tired, the friends went to sleep, hoping they could reach Redwall without anymore trouble.

Radin was in a terrible rage. After checking and double-checking he had concluded that none of the targeted creatures were among the dead. As he was prone to do when fits of anger engulfed him, he became drunk. This caused him to become even more violent and he laid about his army with his sword yelling at them for their stupidity and cowardliness.

"What's the problem?" he roared, "Are you worms afraid of a little water? Bloody morons, useless idiots! See what your damnable error has done? Allowed them to get away!" he took a particularly ferocious swipe at a cowering weasel and lobbed of his arm at the elbow. The pitiful creature thrashed about on the ground, howling in pain and grasping his severed limb, blood washing over his paw and arm. "Shut up! Do you hear me? SHUT UP!" Radin bellowed at the screaming creature. When he failed to obey, the intoxicated stoat thrust his blade through the hapless weasel's skull.

The dead beast's companion stood up. Something in his brain had snapped when he saw his only friend being slaughtered, "Whatja do that fer, huh?" he yelled at his leaded, "'E wasn' doin' nothin' wrong! Whatja want us t' do, huh? Jump in the water an' drown! Half o' us can't swim, ya know!"

Radin didn't look at him; he simply slew the beast with a thrust to the gut. He rubbed his temples, snarling, "We're going to rest here for two weeks. Then, when you're all fit to travel again, we'll follow the creatures and kill every last one! Do I make myself clear?" At the murmurs of consent, he nodded and swept away into his pavilion to plan.

More A/N: Like always, thanks for reviewing.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: …

A/N: Just as a warning, this chapter has angst and alcohol. K, that's all.

**Chapter 8**

The downtrodden creatures woke to a dreary morning in the cave. Upon awakening they found that thirteen more of their number had died of wounds and infections during the night. The beasts stared dry-eyed at the death, something they had had more than their fair share of in the past 24 hours.

It was Farah who broke the gloom, "Shouldn't we get a move on? There is nothing we can do for anybeast, living or dead, by staying here." No one could argue with her brutal logic so they all filed up next to the aquatic entrance of the cavern and exited one by one.

Kinliv found herself in the bright, early morning sunlight and struck out for the bank. She reached it and pulled herself up onto dry land. Once they had all regrouped, they began the final stage of their journey to Redwall Abbey. The trip passed in mostly silence, all were reflecting on the friends and family they had lost. Kinliv's mind was focused on their destination. Somehow in her mind their safe arrival at the Abbey had become linked with hope for her being relieved of her depression. She knew this was a silly thought with no grounding, but still she clung to it fervently.

By noon the rose-colored towers of Redwall could be seen over the tops of the trees and the travelers' hearts lifted collectively. Their pace picked up and with a little more vigor they continued. Before long they reached the massive wooden gates. Calimb took a step forward and knocked. Shortly after, a little old mouse scurried out of the gatehouse. He blinked and stared in shock at the force of four hundred that stood before him, looking about ready to run right back into his gatehouse and lock the door until next season.

Kenafon hailed him, "Good sir, would you please let us in? As you can see we are friends!"

The gatekeeper nodded and hurried away. A second later the colossal doors opened, giving them access to the building. They massed inside and found themselves on the grounds. A middle-aged mouse approached them. He looked important for he was clad in a fine robe of deep green trimmed with gold. When he spoke it was in a smooth and melodic voice, "Good day to all! I am Abbot Boniface. I welcome you all to this fine Abbey, you will be shown to your rooms and dinner will be served in an hour in the Great Hall." Kinliv liked this mouse right off, his tone told that though he was kind, he was also powerful and power was one thing Kinliv respected.

They were led into the Abbey by several mice in habits. They progressed up a flight of stairs and into the dormitory area where they were split up. Kinliv and Farah were put into one room and next to them, in a slightly larger dormitory, resided Keem, Rowan, Kenafon and Calimb. The two squirrels took turns in the one bath that the room held, and then changed into the fresh attire that the Redwallers had provided for them. Kinliv was clad in a blood red tunic bound with a leather belt and silver buckle. To be polite, she left her rapier in the room, but stuck a small dagger into her leather boot. Farah had chosen dark green pants and lavender top. Kinliv noticed that she too had pocketed a knife.

Barely talking, the two headed down to the Great Hall. It appeared that in the arrival of sudden guests the Redwallers hadn't had much time to prepare and had simply put out quite a few smaller tables in addition to the large one positioned at the center of the Hall. They found Calimb at one of these and, once they were seated, were informed that the other three would be along shortly. As predicted, when the others arrived, Rowan sat beside Farah, Kenafon next to Kinliv, and Keem with Calimb.

Gradually, the rest of the Hall filled and soon Abbot Boniface stood to say a few words greeting the guests and a simple prayer. Then, the food arrived. Kinliv had to admit that it was the best fare she had ever consumed, yet when she bit into yet another chunk of cheese studded with all manner of vegetables and nuts she began to miss the simple traveling food of which she was so accustomed to. She glanced over at Keem, Kenafon and Calimb and noticed that they too seemed to be experiencing the same thoughts. Rowan and Farah, on the other hand, seemed to be having the time of their lives. They were giggling madly and sampling everything in sight. Kinliv felt the now familiar boiling of her blood and she unconsciously ground her teeth.

Desperately Kinliv looked her eyes and her eyes fell on a plain brown pitcher. She grabbed the object, brought it to her face, and smiled grimly as the sent of alcohol reached her nose. She poured herself a goblet of what turned out to be strong ale. She brought the cup to her lips and took a gulp. She didn't particularly like alcohol, but anything to act as a distraction, ever temporarily, she would take without complaint. She often drank after she killed, but hadn't been able to of late. She took another gulp, letting herself surrender to the intoxicating fluid. From behind her she heard the sound of a beast clearing their throat and she spun around a tad unsteadily. She saw an old mouse with a strict expression staring at her disapprovingly.

"You're far too young to be drinking something so strong," he scolded. "Why don't you have some barley water or strawberry fizz instead?"

Kinliv merely gave him a dirty look and took another swig defiantly. She couldn't stand older beasts who thought they knew what was good for her. He didn't know her and she wasn't going to let him push her around.

"Really now, you'll make yourself sick!" he exclaimed, beginning to lose his temper. It was clear that from his manner he was used to being obeyed.

Kinliv ignored him, downed the rest of the ale and poured herself another goblet. A pleasant buzzing was beginning in her skull, drowning out her pain. She knew she'd have one hell of a hangover tomorrow, but at the moment she really didn't care.

The mouse raised his voice, "Now you put that glass down right now! Listen to your elders and betters!"

Something in Kinliv snapped, she stood up, wheeled around and tipped the contents of the second goblet into her mouth before slamming the cup on the table. She may have been drunk but the only thing her voice was shaking with was rage. She spoke quietly, but one who really knew her would be able to tell that she was in a furry beyond words by the way her voice a betrayed emotion and by the fact that she left out the honorary "thees, thys and thous", "So you think you are better than me, do you? You have no idea what I have been through!" her voice grew louder, "You do not even know me and you think you can tell me what to do!" she was now screaming, the eyes of the entire Hall were on her, "YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I HAVE SEEN! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHY I DRINK!"

The mouse was stunned, as was the rest of the hall. Only Kenafon seemed to be able of movement, he jumped up and grabbed his friend's shaking arm with a muttered, "Let's go outside."

Kinliv, though still seething, allowed herself to be dragged into the cool night air. Immediately she felt her head clearing, but the white hot rage was still there. She paid no attention to where the shrew was leading her and received quite a shock when he pushed her into the freezing water of the Abbey's pond. She blinked several times and whatever cloudiness still remained in her head vanished.

"What on earth did thee do that for?" she asked, glad that her monotone was back.

"You were drunk." He responded simply.

"Yes, and I was rather enjoying it, thank thee."

He sighed and sat down, relieved when she sat beside him, "Look Kinliv, I agree with everything you said, but-"

"He had no right to say he was better than me. He does not even know me."

He ignored her, plowing on as though there hadn't been an interruption, "But, we are guests here and, whether you like it or not, we need their help."

She snorted, "As if creatures that weak could help us."

"I told you before, that they can be foolish, but they aren't all like that."

"I hope thou art correct."

He sighed, "Look they're holding a war council in someplace they call the Cavern Hole, are you coming?"

She grinned wryly, "No I do not think I shall. I do not believe they would want me to attend and Keem already knows all the plans we have come up with. Besides, I should head for bed, as you can see I cannot hold my alcohol well and I should probably sleep the rest of it off."

Kenafon respected his friend's wishes and, though they walked back into the building together, he headed back into the Hall while watching her slink back up to her room. He sat between his father and Keemin Tae. The hall seemed to settle down a bit and the food was beginning to be cleared away.

Keem leaned over asking, "How is she?"

"Better, we talked a bit."

"Did ye? Ah take it she won't be attending the council?"

Kenafon nodded, "I think she needs to mull things over."

"Ah, well yon Farah will not be there either."

"Why not?" the shrew asked curiously.

"She said that war didn't interest her and to call for her if they wanted to discuss trading, economy or politics."

"Ah."

Soon the Hall began to clear out. Most creatures heading to their beds, some to the kitchens and a small few to the Cavern Hole. When Keem, Kenafon, Rowan and Calimb arrived at the meeting they found that the Abbot, the old mouse that Kinliv had shouted at and a young female otter awaiting them. Keem's eyes shot to the magnificent sword that the otter was holding.

The Abbot introduced the old mouse first, "This is Cassus, a friend of mind, Elder and advisor." He then gestured to the sword-bearing otter, "And this is Corydalis, or Cory, she's our Abbey's warrior and the Skipper of Otters. That sword she's holding is the Sword of Martin the Warrior, our Abbey's first warrior."

"Ah've heard tales of such a mouse." mused Keem.

"I'll show you the tapestry sometime," said Cory, "Our only depiction of the warrior."

"I'd like that, thank ye." Responded Keem.

Cassus cleared his throat, something he seemed to be good at, "Aren't we supposed to be speaking of war?"

"Yes, why don't you tell us of this threat that approaches?" Suggested Boniface.

So Keem spoke, he told of Radin and his numbers and the original four questors. He explained the battle plans that he and Kinliv had formed and finally he gave a plea for assistance from the Abbey dwellers.

The three sat still for a moment before Cassus burst out, "You expect us to help you? This is preposterous! We are not fighters."

Cory argued, "It is true that we do not produce warriors, but we have quite a few young creatures that could learn to fight. And, I could get my otter clan to help. In total," she calculated quickly, "that would be an extra one hundred and fifty beasts."

"You heard the young mouse though!" Cassus snapped, "He said this Radin has over one thousand beasts! Even with these creatures we would only number five hundred fifty!"

Cory opened her mouth to retaliate, but the Abbot spoke, halting the conversation, "Ah, but you forget, the Long Patrol is coming for a visit. In fact they should arrive tomorrow. That would be another two hundred fifty creatures."

Kenafon grinned, "I've always wanted to meet the hairs of the Long Patrol, perilous they're called."

"And indeed they are." Agreed his father, "I saw them once as a lad, doncha know? Magnificent beasts."

"Yes well, that only brings us up to eight hundred, we're still outnumbered." Said the old irritable mouse.

"Yes, but in the right conditions and with a decent battle plan we may actually stand a chance."

"You're the experts." Stated Abbot Boniface, "How much time do we have and what do we need to do?"

Kenafon thought, "Well, on the journey here I heard two birds speaking of Radin. It seems his army will rest for two weeks, so that's how much time we have to prepare. Also, we don't want the fight at the Abbey, it'll be too hard to defend and fight at the same time. Do you know of any wooded hills near here?"

Cory nodded, "Yes, there's one two miles west of here."

"Good, if we can lure Radin there and have our archers waiting on the hill we'll have the element of surprise and a height advantage. From then on we can use Keem and Kinliv's 'two-pronged pincer backed by archers' plan."

After a bit of talking and smoothing out details they all seemed reasonably happy with the plan. Cory was going to set out the next morning to find her clan who should be at their spring camp in the woods, but first she showed Keem the tapestry. The two walked to where it was situated in silence. When Keem saw the mouse depicted on it he gasped.

"Ah've seen that creature before!"

The otter looked at him curiously, "He's been dead for countless seasons."

"Ah didn't actually see him as flesh and fur, Ah just saw him in a vision." He drew his sapphire-hilted blade, "He told me how to retrieve this."

"It's a splendid weapon," the Skipper said approvingly and held up Martin's sword next to it, "They seem to be made out of the same metal, I heard it was from a falling star."

Keem merely nodded, his head was reeling. He politely excused himself and returned to his room thinking everything over.

Kinliv lay on her back, eyes staring unseeingly at the ceiling above her. She could not remember the last time she had been in a bed and then realized that she probably never had. She was vaguely surprised when Farah entered the room shortly after she had lain down. The other squirrel sat down on her own bed, next to Kinliv's, without a word and Kinliv settled into her own thoughts once more. After a while Farah startled her by speaking in a voice much softer than her usual tone.

"Do you think we'll die?"

"Of course, every beast dies."

"No, I mean in the upcoming battle."

"Oh, who can say, some of us shall, some of us shall not."

They lapsed back into silence for a bit before Farah asked another question.

"Are you afraid of death?"

"No."

Farah sighed, "I wish I could be like that, I'm terrified of the prospect. And then I keep thinking what would happen if you or Rowan or Keem died. I don't think I'd be able to take it."

This put Kinliv of balance, "Thou would care if I died?"

"Of course! We're friends, aren't we?"

"I guess."

Once more a silence passed between them. Kinliv was stunned that Farah viewed her as a friend. Once this sunk in though, another feeling took its place: guilt. She felt as though she should tell her "friend" of her feelings for Rowan. Though she used all her logic to beat down such an absurd notion, a little part of her mind remained firm on the idea. The mental battle began to eat away at her and suddenly she could take it no longer. All the secrecy, the hatred, the pain, the love. It all built up inside her and finally it spilled out.

"Farah, I believe I am in love with Rowan."

Farah did not look the least bit surprised, "I figured you were." Kinliv could not think of anything to say to this, but apparently she didn't have to because the other squirrel continued, "I knew you loved him, even from the beginning. No offence, but it was pretty obvious. Oh well, you won't have to put up with any longer, I plan on breaking up with him on the morrow."

What ever Kinliv had been expecting, it wasn't this. She gaped at the other as though she were insane and finally managed to ask, "Why?"

"I don't want you to be in pain any longer. It's been fun, but no matter what it seems like, I really don't like hurting other creatures."

"No, do not do this." Kinliv argued before she could stop herself, "Thou say thou dost not wish to hurt others, but thou would be hurting Rowan. He needs thee and thou need him."

"Do you mean it?" Farah asked, "You're willing to put up with the pain for our happiness?"

"Yes. Thou art my friend and he is as well. I care for both of thee."

"That's so…" she faded away.

"I am going to tell him though, before the battle."

"Yes you should. Just incase…"she faded away again, apparently not wanting to voice such grim thoughts.

Kinliv felt a bit better after telling her, but wondered if she had done the right thing. Her doubt was strengthened the next time her companion spoke.

"I feel bad though…about all this."

"Do not."

"I can't help it."

"Just do not, be happy."

"Thanks. I still feel bad though."

Kinliv's temper was straining, "Just do not feel bad. Be happy, though dost not know how long it will all last, what with wars and battles. Enjoy life now, I would do the same were I thou."

This seemed to settle her and soon Kinliv figured that she had fallen asleep. She wished she could join the other in the lands of slumber, but her mind was whirling. Had she done the right thing? How and when would she tell Rowan? What of the upcoming battle? Who _would _die? It was quite along time before Kinliv's mind settled down enough for her to sleep.

More A/N: Thanks for reviewing, this chapter and/or last.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Need I say it?

A/N: There aren't any warnings for this chapter. It is rather short though…

**Chapter 9**

Pale spring sunlight filtered through the dusty stained-glass window sending shafts of rose colored light into the room that Kinliv was sharing with Farah. Kinliv was leaning against the wall next to the window, one knee bent with footpaw resting against the stone behind her. Her arms were folded and she was staring at the floor, deep in thought. This morning she was clad in baggy gray pants, held up by a black belt with a silver buckle, and a tan shirt. Today her weapon was not concealed, the rapier stood out clearly attached to her belt. She had been standing like this for about an hour as she had already raided the kitchen for breakfast two or three hours before. Cold eyes darted upward as she detected the noises of her stirring roommate.

Faraheos sat up and rubbed her eyes, yawning. Without sparing a glance for the observing Kinliv she got up and crossed the room to the marble water basin that stood in the corner. After thoroughly scrubbing her face she turned to the other squirrel, "Morning."

"Aye, it is." replied her companion in her usual unwavering tone.

Farah grinned, "Big day today?"

Kinliv nodded, "Today we begin training."

"Fun. Breakfast first?"

Kinliv shook her head with a faint, almost unnoticeable grimace, "I have already eaten."

Farah seemed to understand, "Well you'll have to come down anyway. We have to figure out the training schedule."

If the other squirrel seemed less than happy with this plan she didn't show it, merely nodding and stating that she would wait out in the hall for her "friend". She strode out the door and assumed her previous position, this time outside the room. After a few moments of waiting she began to hear voices from down the hall and in a short time their owners came into view from around the corner. They appeared to belong to two young creatures about Kinliv's age, a mouse and an otter. The talking stopped dead as the creatures spotted the squirrel. Kinliv expected them to hurry past, heads down, but instead they approached her.

The young mouse spoke, feet shifting back and forth, "I just wanted to say that what you did yesterday, standing up to Cassus and all, I just thought that that was pretty brave."

"Yeah, me too." Agreed his companion.

This caught Kinliv completely off guard and, before she could stop herself, she cracked a grin, "Thank you."

The two nodded and smiled back before hurrying off to breakfast. Shortly after they departed, Farah came out. Even Kinliv had to agree that she looked stunning this morning clad in jet back pants and a sapphire blue fitted shirt embroidered with silver leaves down the sleeves. When Kinliv enquired the occasion for such an appearance Farah simply shrugged and said something about wanting to make a good impression.

The two walked down to breakfast in almost complete silence, though their minds were both focused on the same topic. All talk faded and turned into low mutterings when Kinliv entered, though, she noticed, not all angry. In fact, most of the younger creatures and even some of the adults were smiling approvingly at her. They took seats at the table they had sat at the previous night.

Rowan greeted the plainly-dressed squirrel happily, "What you did last night has had quite an effect on the beasts here. Quite a few of them are rather impressed and I've already had at least twenty young creatures approach me with wishes to join the army."

For the second time that morning, Kinliv couldn't stop herself from smiling, "It was not anything, just some hasty words brought on by too much alcohol."

Rowan shrugged, "Well, whatever it was, it did the job!" His attention was then distracted by the fact that Farah had just taken the seat next to him and, despite their conversation the night before, Kinliv could not stop her paws from clenching. She sat down abruptly next to Kenafon, pouring herself a hot cup of coffee.

"So, how was the council?" she asked, pointedly not looking at the other two squirrels at the table.

"Rather interesting." The shrew stated before continuing to fill her in with the previous evening's events from the battle plans to the sword. Kinliv nodded and in turn told her friend of the conversation she had had with Farah.

"So you told her, huh?

"Yes."

"Do you think you did the right thing?"

"Yes."

"Well that's good enough for me."

They would have continued the discussion, but were interrupted when Abbot Boniface stood up and addressed the Hall, "Today we begin training for the approaching battle. Anybeast interested in joining the troops should congregate on the grounds by the orchards after breakfast. Also the Long Patrol should be arriving today so if you have no chores today, you may stand watch. Now, I believe that's it, you are free to go."

With this dismissal Kinliv bolted up as though she had been stung. Kenafon followed, though at a slower pace. Together they were the first to leave the building. Kinliv's mind was still a bit clouded from the usual depression of seeing Rowan and Farah together, but she quickly pulled herself together, "So the Long Patrol will be assisting us?"

"So it would seem."

"Lovely. I have always wanted to meet them. They sound quite interesting."

"Yes, my father met them once. Perilous beasts, he said."

They lapsed into silence, waiting for their future army to gather. A wind blew around them, much to cold for the spring that had just arrived, but Kinliv did not even stir. She was lost in her own mind. She flinched as she remembered Rowan and Farah kissing at breakfast. Damn it! Why did it still hurt? Why couldn't she just bloody get over it? She wilted as the image flashed through her mind again, tearing her heart into countless more pieces. She blinked back the stinging at the corners of her eyes. It should not hurt so damn much…

Her head snapped upward as she realized Kenafon was speaking to her, "Ah, here they come…Kinliv! Are you alright?"

She blinked again and forced a stoic expression onto her face, "Yes, I'm fine. It's nothing."

He offered her a sympathetic look before turning to Rowan, Farah, Keem and Calimb who had come up next to them. "Where's the clan, father?" he addressed the other shrew.

"I told them to practice formations and such on their own, doncha know? I left the Committee in charge. We'll get together with them in about a week to go over the jolly old plans, doncha know?"

His son nodded then turned to the crowed that had formed before them. It consisted of about fifty otters led by Corydalis and one-hundred abbey dwellers. Keem addressed the Abby Warrior, "Cory, Ah believe that Ah do be correct in assuming that yer otters are already sufficiently trained in handling their weapons?" When she nodded he continued, "Then would you be so kind as to go train with the Avaborit? We'll just be assigning weapons and instructing in the usage of them this week Ah do believe."

"Alright then. Cummon crew!" The otters left and all that was left was the group of timid looking mice, moles, voles, hedgehogs and squirrels.

Keem addressed the bunch, "Right well we have the army, now we need the weapons. So, your first task is to completely ransack this place for anything that could be used as a fighting implement. Meet back here in an hour! Dismiss!" The group hurried off surprisingly fast and the four original travelers were left standing alone with the shrew and his father. Rowan and Farah immediately engaged in a non-verbal conversation and Kinliv turned away, forcing her face to be calm, holding back the tears that once again threatened to overwhelm her.

She was spared further torment however by the call of a mouse on the battlements, "The Long Patrol! The Long Patrol has arrived!" Just then the front gates burst open in a cloud of dust and there stood, all perfectly to attention, the two hundred-fifty hairs of the Long Patrol. They all stood stalk still until a command was given by their leader, a tough looking hair clad in a red tunic with a claymore and a monocle, then shifted to the "at ease" position.

By this time the signal had been carried to the Abbot and he strode out to meet them. The hair in charge saluted, a gesture mimicked by the rest of the Patrol in a perfect mirror. The Abbot saluted in return then shook hands with the red-tunic clad hair, "Good day, Major!" he greeted.

"Good day Abbot, wot?" replied the perilous beast.

"Why don't you and your troops come into the Abbey, we'll see if we can get you some food and fill you in on our current situation."

"Some fodder sounds jolly good right now, wot! Lead the way." The hungry warriors were led into the Abbey, leaving the six beasts alone once more. Once again Rowan and Farah locked in a tight embrace and began to kiss in a rather passionate manner.

Calimb chuckled, "It looks like they're eating each others faces, doncha know? I always just thought it was a literary description, but it's actually true!"

Kinliv winced and Rowan broke apart for a second to send the older shrew a look that would wither a plant before submerging once more. Kinliv waited in silent agony for roughly fifteen minutes before the weapon search-party returned. They dumped their weapons in a huge pile then stood milling around as if unsure of what to do.

When Keem decided that they had all returned he spoke to them, "Alright, fine bunch of weapons you've got here! Now, Ah'd like you to sort them into piles by weapon. Well get started!"

The rodents jumped and began to sort. By the end they had roughly twenty-five spears (or implements that could be used as spears), ten swords swords, thirty-five wood axes, thirty bows and a large pile of daggers, knives and slings (all from previous invasions on the Abbey). They set up a makeshift archery range and a dueling area with practice swords and it soon became apparent which beasts were suited to which weapons. After the main weapons were assigned each beast was given a dagger, knife or sling and so began the training. From the first few minutes it was quite obvious that they had a lot of work to do. The archers were lucky if they could hit the target at ten feet let alone the bulls-eye at fifty. The sword beasts were lucky if they didn't chop off their own limbs and the spear beasts kept tripping over their shafts. Only the axe wielding creatures knew how to handle their weapons from the time spent chopping down trees for fire wood.

Kinliv was getting fed up with the twelve sword beasts she was training (Keem had taken the other thirteen). She had decided to teach them all a few simple moves then pair them up to spar with their blades wrapped up in cloths so not to let them actually hurt each other. She doubted that they would cause much damage without the safety precaution, except to maybe themselves. She could excuse them for not being warriors, but this was pathetic! They either barely moved the weapons, as if afraid to hit there opponents and apologizing profusely every time they miraculously managed to get a good blow in or swung so wildly that they often got off balance and landed on the ground.

"No you pathetic mindless creatures!" the squirrel shouted. Some of the beasts started to get teary-eyed and she tried to control her temper. She walked over to one sparing pair of mice and moved them into fighting positions. "You! Thrust out with your blade!" the young mouse did as instructed and hit his partner squarely in the chest causing him to topple over. The mouse on the ground blinked and looked dumbstruck, but Kinliv congratulated the attacker, "Very good! Nice blow!"

The other mouse paid her no heed, but rushed over to the fallen creature, "Oh, are you okay? I'm so sorry!"

"No, do not apologize to him! He is fine!"

The mouse looked at his trainer as though she were insane, but stood up none-the-less. Kinliv helped the other mouse up and instructed the two to return to their fighting positions. "This time, when he strikes at you, I want you to parry, like this." She showed him the correct form to block an opposing blade and this time when the first mouse thrust, the defender was able to hit the blade aside. "Very good. I would like you all to try this now. Take turns attacking and defending."

Slowly, very slowly the soldiers began to improve and by the end of the day an exhausted, yet satisfied Kinliv entered the Great Hall.

More A/N: Ok, so I just stayed up 24 consecutive hours just to prove to myself that I could. Yeah, not one of my better ideas. Just thought I'd share ::yawns::. Also, just as a side note, I believe there will only be one more chapter in this story then a brief epilogue. Anyway, thanks for reviews and Happy Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza, Winter Solstice, or whatever the heck you celebrate and if you don't celebrate anything this time of year then have a pleasant day!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Well, this is the last full-length chapter before the epilogue. Enjoy.

**Chapter 10**

And so the days turned into weeks and before she new it Kinliv found herself on the battle's eve. She was not in the best of conditions. True the troops were ready, two weeks hard training had accounted for that, but she was more depressed than she had ever been in her life and because of something as stupid as love. She was sure that if she had ever known her mother she would have warned her of the dangers of such an emotion, but no, Kinliv had to go and find out for herself.

Kinliv and Rowan hadn't talked much over the past fortnight; she too swallowed in sorrow to bring her self to speak to the one causing her such agony and he preferring to engage in other activities with Farah. Ever time she saw him now he was kissing the other squirrel with varying degrees of intensity. She tried to hide her pain behind a mask of indifference, but she knew it wasn't working, she was slowly falling deeper and deeper into a seemingly endless void as Farah and Rowan fell deeper and deeper in love. It hurt.

Despite her conversation with Kenafon, Kinliv had begun to cut again. Small wounds littered her already scarred arms, some straight and others, the ones she had inflicted while intoxicated, jagged. She now sat huddled against the stone corner of her room, shivering with a knife against her forearm. She pressed the blade into her flesh and drew it slowly sideways. A perfectly straight trail of red liquid followed the knife, she was sober. Though she cut deeply she was long past the stages of actually feeling pain. She wasn't even quite sure why she continued to inflict injuries on herself, just that it was something stable, something constant in this insane world in which she dwelt. It was something she actually had control over.

The cause of such self-injury became apparent as the voices of Rowan and Farah drifted through her open window carried in by the night breeze.

"I love you, Rowan."

"I love you too."

Silence. Pain erupted in Kinliv's heart. More blood shown on previously intact skin.

"Tomorrow if I die…" Farah's voice.

"You won't."

"But if I do…"

"I'll never forget you."

"If I die, promise me you'll go on living."

"I couldn't, I'm nothing without you."

"Promise me."

"I can't."

"You say you love me. If you truly do you will promise me this one thing."

Silence, then finally, "I promise."

"Good."

Silence. Kinliv sank to the floor, her own blood staining the stone beneath her. She shook like the last leaf of autumn clinging in vain to a bare limb in the middle of a gale. For how long she lay like this, she hadn't the slightest inclination. It felt like days passed, years even, and then suddenly, with a few more sentences, the pain eased.

"It's late." Rowan.

"True, and tomorrow may be the day of reckoning."

"It will be fine."

"I love you."

Silence.

"Where are you going." Farah.

"I'm going to sit by the Sword of Martin for a bit. I find it calming."

"Goodnight then."

"Goodnight"

Kinliv crept silently into her bed, pulling the sleeve of her shirt over her wounded arm, carefully wrapped so not to stain the sheets. Minutes passed, but Kinliv waited as though she had all the time in the world. She now knew what she must do. The creaking of hinges and a shaft of light signified Farah's entrance. Assuming her roommate was asleep, the squirrel undressed silently, changing into a silken nightgown, before entering her own bed. Soon the sound of steady breathing came from the bed next to Kinliv's. It was time.

Like a fleeting shadow in the night, Kinliv emerged from the sheets and slipped through the door which Farah had left slightly ajar. Leather boots padded softly down the stairs, Kinliv had made no effort to undress. She entered the Hall slowly, almost cautiously, this was the last time she could turn back, but she knew deep in her heart that that time had long since passed. He stood there, motionless, all attention on the tapestry before him and in that moment Kinliv knew for sure. This indeed was the creature she had fallen in love with. He did not look up as she approached him, his eyes riveted to the woven figure. She walked up next to him, close enough that their shoulders brushed together.

He looked at her and she felt as if those deep endless eyes were penetrating her very soul. She gazed into them, entranced. "Hey." He spoke softly.

"Hello." She responded, still not averting her eyes from his.

"What brings you down here so late?"

"I came to see you."

If he was expecting a different answer he didn't show it. He merely nodded, thoughtfully.

"I do not see you much any more." At this point all honorific titles were gone, she was comfortable with him, relaxed.

He shrugged, "I've been busy. So have you."

She nodded, "Ready for the battle?"

"As I'll ever be. You?"

"Same."

"Such is the way of the warrior." He grinned. "But you did not come to talk of the trivial matters of war."

"No, I did not." His silence bid her to continue. She turned to face him. "Rowan, I…I love you."

His eyes shot downward and he murmured, "I know."

"You do?" she asked, confused.

"I knew from the moment I met you that you would fall in love with me. I could see it in your eyes. It's a talent I've always had, reading creatures emotions." He let out a short laugh that contained to mirth. "I tried to love you back and at one point I think I might have, but then I met Farah…" He looked up, staring into her, and she was surprised to see that his eyes shown bright with unshed tears. His voice shook as it grew louder, "I wish it didn't have to be like this but, Kinliv, I love her!"

Suddenly they were both crying. Bitter tears ran down Kinliv's face as she embraced him and realized the biting truth: maybe in another time, another world, he would love her, but not here, not now. He never could. He held her tightly to him, feeling her heart beat against his chest as the same truth ran through his mind. He cried openly for all that should be, but never would be, never could be. All he could do was repeat the words that condemned her soul again and again, "I love her, Kinliv, I love her. I love her…" They stood there, tears mingling and suddenly he was kissing her. It was not a passionate kiss, containing no romance, it was instead filled with hope, hope for what could never happen, like a broken wish forever doomed to dwell with the cold uncaring stars. She kissed him back, wanting, wanting what she could never have, trying in vain to make the moment last for an eternity.

Then the moment was broken. They let go of each other, faces still shining with the tears that had fallen, eyes bright with those it would be pointless to shed. She turned to go, walking as far as the entrance to the hall, before turning back.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He replied.

"I love you." And with that she was gone.

He stood there, lost. With one last trace of hope he glanced at the picture of Martin, then shook his head and headed off to his own room. So much left unsaid.

The morning of the battle dawned cold and gloomy. A thick layer of clouds obscured the sky, blocking out the sun until it was just a lighter patch amid the mass of gray. Eight hundred beasts stood out in front of the Abbey, all perfectly to attention. Before them stood the leaders, Keemin Tae, Calimb, Kenafon, The Major, Corydalis, Rowan, Faraheos and Kinliv. There was no need for any speeches, the Abbot had already bid them farewell and all creatures knew what they must do. They began to march, away from the practically non-existent sun.

Soon the wooded hill loomed into existence. Quickly they situated themselves among the trees, scouts had reported that Radin's troops should arrive sometime in the evening. Kinliv sat with Kenafon, telling her friend of the previous nights events. He listened and that's all she asked for.

Morning dwindled into afternoon. The restless creatures found ways of amusing themselves with trivial sports and pass times. At one end of the hill an archery contest was going on. Not surprisingly, Farah won, receiving a plain necklace adorned by only a small copper medallion in the shape a sun. She gave the trinket to Rowan along with a kiss.

All too soon, creatures were shouting for the campfires to be put out. Radin's army was approaching. Kinliv's heart sped up as the thunderous sound of marching beasts reached her ears. She saw dots of light flicker into existence, a sign that the army below them was pitching camp. Farah sidled up next to her.

"Are you nervous?" the other squirrel asked.

"As always."

"Me too."

Kinliv grunted.

"I know what you did last night." Farah continued.

Kinliv only shrugged.

"So everything has been settled?"

"Now is not the time or place to discuss this." Kinliv responded, monotone in place.

"You're right. I'm sorry."

Out of the corner of her eye Kinliv saw Rowan approaching the two squirrels. She hastily excused herself and walked off, staring at the loam covered earth. She spent the rest of the evening occupying herself with small menial tasks such as polishing and sharpening her rapier. A nervous energy had come over her, an energy built of the desire for battle. The familiar feeling had driven all thoughts of Farah, Rowan and love in general out of her head. Tonight the land would run red with rivers of blood.

Finally, Keem came up to the war-minded squirrel.

"Time to go, orders are about to be delivered."

Kinliv nodded, "Good luck tonight, thou shall defeat thy foe."

Keem smiled grimly, "Thank ye, I plan on it!"

The major gave out instructions. Redwallers, Long Patrol and Otters would go to the left, shrews to the right, and archers would remain on the hill, advancing straight downward. Below them one thousand beasts stopped, unaware that they were being watched, and began to set up camp. Within minutes small pinpoints of light began to wink into existence. The sun was setting before them, it did not impair the warriors' sight for the clouds had not thinned all day. A light drizzle began to fall.

Eight hundred soldiers tensed, waiting for the signal. A shrill whistle ripped through the watery air and all hell broke loose. Creatures poured down either slope, surrounding the camp as arrows rained down from above. Radin's army was caught off guard, but not for long. The warlord was soon among them, shouting orders with calm clarity.

Kinliv was back to back with Farah who had forsaken her bow in order to be able to fight alongside Rowan. She held a dirk in one paw and a buckler in the other. Blood splattered across Kinliv's war tunic as she tore open the chest of the creature in front of her with deadly accuracy. Off to her left Kinliv could see Kenafon and Calimb fighting gallantly, though about to be overwhelmed. Kinliv fought her way over to them, but it was too late, Calimb had gone down, a stoat's dagger lodged in his chest. Kinliv held off the attackers as the shrew leader spent his last few moments with a sobbing Kenafon.

"Don't cry now, there you go. You have to keep fighting, for me, for the clan. Take care of them, the Avaborit, you're their leader now, doncha know?" With a final shuddering breath the valiant shrew departed. Kenafon rose with a shout of sorrow and rage, striking about madly with his claymore as he slaughtered beasts left and right.

The battle was not going well, Radin's troops seriously outnumbered the woodlanders and it was apparent that if they did not act soon they would be engulfed by vermin. _Kill Radin._ The thought shot through Kinliv's mind and she began to fight her way over to where the stoat was leading his army from the back. The same though had obviously entered Farah's mind as well, for she too was fighting her way towards the warlord, but, unlike Kinliv, she was almost upon him.

Scalding white lightning tore a gash in the sky, illuminating the silhouette of Farah and Radin, now locked in deadly combat. Farah was breathing heavily, she was not used to such brutal fighting, but still she fought on matching the albino stoat blow for blow. Radin was happy; the battle was going in his favor. Now if he could just get this bloody squirrel out of his way he could continue his conquest. He grinned as he sliced of a hunk of flesh from Farah's shoulder, a grin that quickly changed to a snarl of pain as she hit his damaged paw with the flat of her blade. His limb had never truly healed from the wound Keem had inflicted upon it.

On they battled, neither of the warriors giving in until Farah took a step backwards. Her footpaw landed wrong in the middle of a pool of blood and she lost her balance. As though in slow motion she fell, the ground rising up to meet her. Radin let out a cry of victory and plunged his sword downward. In that very moment, four heads snapped upward and a gruesome and terrible met four pairs of eyes. Radin's blade plunged deep into Farah's chest. Her eyes grew wide for a second, and then began to glaze over. She whispered something that was carried on the wind, "I love you, Rowan, I will always love you…" Her breath faltered then stopped as blood began to bubble out of her still open mouth. Thus died Faraheos of Baeown.

Keem, Kinliv, Kenafon and Rowan had all witnessed this horrible spectacle, the latter of which letting out an agonizing scream as though it was his own heart that had been pierced. He rushed forward, a wild fire burning in his eyes. Radin merely flourished his pommel stone in an intricate pattern, hitting Rowan in the skull with numbing force. The young squirrel hit the ground with a thud, unconscious. The rain fell harder, pounding on the battle below. Kinliv charged toward the murderous warlord, fully intending to kill him, but Keem beat her to him.

Keem pointed that wonderful sword directly at Radin and spoke in a voice as cold as the Northland wind, "We meet again, stoat. Do ye remember me?"

Memories, vivid and crisp rushed through the warlord's brain and he snarled, "Aye, I do. I failed to kill you once; I won't make the same mistake again." With that he lunged forward, blade directed at Keem. Keem parried coolly, stepping to the side as his foe lurched past him. Radin whirled around; teeth bared, and made a downward slash. The young mouse blocked and twirled his sword, slicing off the stoat's pure white paw. Radin screamed, blood spurting out of the severed veins.

"Now I've finished the first job I started." The mouse said grimly, before making a sideways slash into the vile warlord's neck, "And now I've finished the second." His icy eyes stared down at the carcass of the foe that he had sworn to defeat. His vow had been fulfilled.

Kinliv and Kenafon approached the victorious mouse. Around them vermin were realizing their cruel leader was dead and began to surrender, all will to fight was lost. Kinliv bent down and held a paw to Rowan's neck, feeling for a pulse, "He's still alive." She said shortly, unemotionally. Inside her a whirl of feelings threatened to burst from her, but she showed none of it. The light of battle had faded from Kenafon's eyes. He simply stood there, weeping for his dead father. Keem had a far off look on his face, he could only stand and wonder what he would do with his life now that it was all over.

All about the cheers of the victorious soldiers were drown out by the sorrows raging with in. They had all lost so much in what now seemed like such an insignificant victory. A cold heartless wind suddenly tore through the air causing a lonely tattered pendant to flap above them. It displayed a sword slicing through a heart on a field of crimson, a color that matched the streams that ran beneath it.


	11. Epilogue

A/N: Here's the epilogue. I would like to thank all of you who stuck with me and kept reading this story, thanks especially to the two of you that reviewed. I hope you enjoyed this story. Also, I probably won't be posting anything else under this penname. If you would like to read my other writing it is under the penname Kyndeyrn. Thanks.

**Epilogue**

None of the young creatures were quite the same after the Battle of Fate as it had later been called. True to his word, Rowan had not attempted to commit suicide though his world had been crushed. His physical recovered quickly, but he lapsed into a depressed silence, only talking when he called Farah's name into the night. Kinliv's own heart had been torn apart, not only for the loss of her friend but also, in a sense, for the loss of Rowan who she now knew would never love her back. Keem had wandered around the Abbey aimlessly for days after the battle. His purpose in life had been destroyed and it seemed that he would not live much longer without the drive that had so viciously pushed him. It was Cory, the otter, who saved him. She offered her position of Abbey Warrior to him, declaring that she only wished to focus on being the best Skipper of Otters there had ever been. The position gave new meaning to the young mouse's life and he lived out the rest of his days at the Abbey, working to become a strong disciple of Martin the Warrior in order to honor the mouse that had saved his life so many moons ago. Kenafon took his time to grieve, eventually recovering from the emotional wounds that the battle had left. He worked had as chieftain of the Avaborit and eventually obtained the position of society leader of the Gwalchgwyn.

One cool day in mid autumn Kinliv awoke to find Rowan gone from the Abbey. He had left no note, but simply had just got up and left. Still deeply in love she too left that very morning, bidding farewell only to Keem and Kenafon, the shrew that had taught her so much. She tracked the squirrel at a grueling pace through most of the day, never once stopping to eat or rest. Not until the sun had reached its zenith, shining down brightly on the forest below, did she hear voices.

"I'll kill ya squirrel!" the voice belonged to some manner of vermin.

Kinliv poked her head through the branches that were sheltering the voice and a sight that almost made her heart stop met her eyes. Rowan, bruised and bloody but still on his feet, was surrounded by no less than fifteen vermin. Three were on the ground, already dead. Rowan uttered no noise for the mad light in his eyes, a light that chilled Kinliv's heart, spoke for him. He wielded a dirk and buckler, the same two weapons that Farah had used in the Battle of Fate. The weasel that had spoken struck out at him, slicing his arm. Rowan didn't seem to notice, simply killing the creature with a well-placed thrust.

Kinliv wasted no time, jumping through the bushes and skidding to the side of the one she loved. For the first time since the battle, she felt like she was exactly where she needed to be. Rowan smiled, the first smile he had shown in what felt like an eternity. It was though a bond had been formed between their minds, both knew exactly what the other was feeling, thinking. A moment passed, just a moment, a world in a moment, and then they charged. Farah's name was on both their lips as, side by side, the two companions charged to their deaths. They knew from that bittersweet moment that their fate was locked, sealed on the blades of their foes. Death had never felt so right.

**Fin**


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